


Use Somebody

by Vikkaleeti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Dark Past, Domestic Violence, Draco is broken, Friendship, Gay, Graphic Description, HEA, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Medical Conditions, MuggleAU, Pansy Is Awesome, References to Drugs, Secrets, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, but Harry wants to fix him, but with lots of wizard world reminders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:56:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 104,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vikkaleeti/pseuds/Vikkaleeti
Summary: Draco Malfoy needs a job! When the position of P.A/secretary to hot shot solicitor Harry Potter, senior partner of the prestigious lawfirm 'Aurors', falls into his lap - How can he possibly say no to it. Slash, non magic, AU Non-magic (but don’t let that put you off)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Other(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 42
Kudos: 298





	1. Draco

"I have found the most perfect job for you!"

Draco Malfoy glanced up from his favourite celebrity magazine as his friend and flatmate Pansy came rushing through the front door, her arms laden with bags upon bags from one of her shopping expeditions.

Her face was flushed a rosy pink from having to hike up the 3 flights of stairs that led to their flat.

The building did have a lift - which had been a main priority when Draco and Pansy had been flat hunting because both were too lazy to trek up and down stairs - but it had been out of action every other week since they had moved in due to kids jamming the doors open and such. As retribution for making them exercise, they both took it in turns to throw water balloons down the stairwell whenever they heard the little thugs. The unwitting criminals had yet to realise who it was that was soaking them. Something that Draco and Pansy took much delight in.

Pansy pranced over to where Draco sat, and unceremoniously crashed down onto the sofa beside him, dropping her bags carelessly at her feet as she sank into the soft cushions.

"Christ, I'm so doing the next water balloon attack. I nearly had a heart attack walking up those stairs with all these bags. The little shits won't know what hit them!" Pansy panted slightly, the exertion clearly too much for her.

Draco chuckled slightly at his friend's entrance and shook his head humorously, his white blonde hair falling into his eyes from the action.

"Hello to you too, Miss Parkinson." He smiled, dumping his magazine next to her bags and throwing an arm round her shoulder. Pansy, as he suspected she would, melted against him.

"Hello, Draco." She sighed, her eyes sliding closed tiredly.

Draco rested his head on top of hers and squeezed her into his side in a comforting gesture. "Tea or Vodka?" He asked her, a smile springing to his face as he anticipated her answer.

Pansy and Draco had lived together for 18 months now, and they had come to know each other inside out. Asking Pansy if she wanted vodka was like asking a fish if it liked living in water. It was pretty much a given.

"Oh, you beautiful man! Marry me!" She sighed blissfully, opening one of her chocolate brown eyes and peering at him cheekily. Her long shiny chestnut hair, that was usually immaculate, had gone slightly awry from her expedition up Mount Staircase and was splayed across the sides of her face resembling a bird's nest. Brushing the mess behind her ear with his fingers and kissing her forehead lightly, Draco gazed at her with a sombre expression. However, amusement sparkled in his eyes as he blew out a mock sigh.

"If only you weren't already marrying my oldest and dearest friend…and if only I found you remotely attractive...we would be so happy together. Alas, you are engaged, and I am gay." He murmured, placing a hand on his chest as though his heart were breaking, and closing his eyes with a shake of his head.

Pansy sighed dramatically and turned to peer at Draco. She, too, shook her head with disappointment and a martyred frown slid across her face, "Well, vodka will have to do then."

They abruptly burst out laughing; both used to the dramatic little skits that always seemed to effortlessly find a way into their day. Shoving each other playfully, they both heaved themselves from the sofa and made their way into the kitchen where a healthy supply of alcohol was stocked in the fridge. They tended to ignore the fact that the absence of food should be an indication that their priorities were ever so slightly off centre, but they brushed off the matter. After all, they were Twentysomething's and as rule number 1 in the 'Twentysomething handbook' they were required to be carefree and drunk 70 % of the week. If they needed food…they'd call for a pizza. Rules were rules, and rules must be obeyed.

Draco sidled over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of vodka they had opened the day before, along with a lemon and some lemonade. Pansy grabbed two glasses and they met each other at the chopping board.

"So, this perfect job? Is it perfect like the last one? You know, where I was required to wash dishes!" Draco quipped, his nose wrinkling slightly at the memory.

Pansy hopped up onto the counter as Draco began slicing the lemon, and she sloppily poured the vodka into each of the two glasses. This certainly wasn't a household that used such instruments as measuring cups. Oh, no. If you were going to drink alcohol at their place, then you had to consider the possibility of maybe having your stomach pumped at the end of the night. Their motto was 'If you're going to drink it, drink it in large doses!'

"Oh, no, this one really is perfect! This hot shot solicitor needs a personal assistant/secretary type person, and you would be great at that because you love to boss people around!" Pansy explained, knocking back a quick shot of vodka from the bottle and coughing slightly as it burned a trail down her throat. Cringing, she continued. "I mean, literally, all you have to do is tell him what appointments he has and make him the odd cup of tea. I guess there would be filing, but knowing you, you'd find someone else to do that for you. Like I said, it's perfect!"

Draco threw the lemon slices into the glasses and poured in the lemonade, a disbelieving frown on his face as he glanced at his over excitable friend. "Pans, there is no way on earth that a job in a law firm is going to be that easy. Besides, the only experience of typing and shit that I've had is talking bollocks in chatrooms. I very much doubt that I can include that in my C.V." he smirked, pulling the bottle away from Pansy's lips and taking a swig for himself.

"Oh, come on Draco! You know that I wrote Blaise such an awesome C.V. that he is actually allowed to teach children. The man just about made it out of school himself. Once I'm done, I could make you sound like Bill 'frigging' Gates and Stephen 'bloody' Hawking all rolled into one. And experience? Ha, you have life experience - That's all you need, my darling." Pansy smiled in a self-satisfied manor. Draco had a feeling that she'd already seen his argument coming and had planned her counter attack in advance.

Draco grabbed his glass and hopped up onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, adjacent to Pansy's perch beside the chopping board.

"Speaking of Blaise, oh beloved husband-to-be, where is he?" Draco asked, pulling a straw from the drawer beneath his leg and popping it into his glass.

Pansy frowned and cocked her head to the side. "You know, that's a very good question! 6pm on a Thursday, he knows that it's happy hour…" She exclaimed, holding her glass up for emphasis, and reaching for the phone that was attached to the wall on her right.

"Well, in all fairness, Pans - Any hour of the day is happy hour for us if we are in the mood." Draco laughed as the brunette began dialling her fiancé's number.

"Yes, well, we have to celebrate your new job." She smirked, which turned into a smile when Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco glanced around the kitchen as Pansy began muttering on the phone. It hadn't changed much since they had moved in. Draco had left most of the decorating to Pansy, seeing as it was her forte being an interior designer, and the end result had been surprisingly to his taste.

For instance the kitchen was the most dramatic room in the flat with its bright red cupboards and drawers and black marble work surfaces. Every utensil and accessory was silver, and absolutely nothing was out of place. Both Pansy and Draco, although fond of a party and the odd drink, were both meticulously tidy which kept Pansy's 'visions' as they were originally…well, envisioned.

Draco focused back on the woman sat opposite him when he heard the phone being dumped back on its holder.

"He was stuck giving some little shit detention, and now he's behind on his marking! He won't be here until at least 7pm because he has to go home and change. Looks like it's just us kiddo." She announced, sliding off the counter, and in one swift movement had unzipped the back of her dress and slipped it off revealing her navy blue bra and hot-pant underwear. "I've wanted to do that all day. Itchy as fuck that dress is." She complained.

Draco didn't bat an eyelid as she did this, being quite used to Pansy's many states of undress. He suspected that he'd seen the girl naked more times than Blaise had, and not once had he ever thought anything of it. Well, that was a lie. He'd once thought that her breasts looked bigger when she was naked and he had asked her if he could see what they felt like, in which she had obligingly grabbed his hand and held it against it for an excruciating length of time. But that was as far as it had gone. Draco had swiftly gone and washed his hands and had never been curious about her body parts since.

"Ooh, that colour is to die for." Draco announced, staring at the lacy fabric. "That's exactly the colour I wanted my bedroom." He added.

"I know, right. It's gorgeous, isn't it?!" She called as she ran to grab a pair of pyjamas from the laundry room. "I was thinking of redoing the lounge in this, but if you want it for your bedroom then consider it done." She said, wandering back into the kitchen wearing bright pink shorts and a white vest.

Hopping back upon the counter she gazed at Draco. "So, this job - What do you think?"

Draco frowned thoughtfully. What did he think? He needed a job, that much was a given. He'd been out of work for weeks now and living off the savings that were quickly dwindling.

He needed to earn his own money and feel that happy rush when you open your pay packet and know that you worked hard for every single penny of it.

"Well, you haven't given me much to go on. Where is it, who's it for, what hours, and what do they pay?" Draco asked, counting off each on his fingers.

Pansy laughed and threw back another mouthful of her drink. "Well, it's at a law firm. For a solicitor. During the day. For money." She answered smartly, pulling a hair band from her wrist and piling her hair into a messy knot near the crown of her head. "All I know is that it's called 'Aurors' and the solicitor is called Harry Potter." She added with a shrug.  
Draco frowned in concentration; almost sure he had heard of 'Aurors' before. It definitely rang a bell.

"Aurors? …Hang on…as in Aurors that represented Theo…" Draco trailed off. An uneasy knot twisted in his stomach as he uttered the name that had been practically taboo in the household in the 18 months they had lived together.

The playful, friendly atmosphere that had been floating around since her arrival home was instantly swallowed by a heavy silence and Pansy shifted uncomfortably as she realised her error. She took a swig of her drink simply for something to do and watched the blonde over the top of her glass. A dark shadow passed over Draco's face. His hands gripped the counter top, his knuckles turning white. 

His eyes stared at his lap, obviously seeing something far off in the past, and Pansy scolded herself for not making the connection earlier when she had first heard of the job vacancy. Aurors! How many law firms would have such a strange name, how could she possibly forget!

"Harry Potter, you say? Was that….?" Draco asked mutely, turning his gaze back to Pansy.

She swiftly shook her head. "No. I believe he was represented by a woman. Hermione Weasley. I remember because we called her 'Weasel Woman'" She replied, a small smile sliding onto her lips.

Draco, who had chosen that moment to drink some of his beverage choked as she spoke.

"Oh…yeah. -" He coughed. "- Weasel Woman." He added with a smirk.

"Sorry, I didn't think. I should've realised…" Pansy began guiltily only to be cut off by Draco.

"No, it's fine. Don't worry. In fact, if anything, it's made me curious. I may have to check it out, see what other criminals they choose to defend." Draco muttered, throwing the remainder of his drink back, and jumping down from the counter. "I guess you may have some C.V fraud to commit after all. I wonder if they'll spot that?!" He smirked. "Hey, what time is it?" He added.

"6:20" Pansy announced as she began pouring herself another generous helping of alcohol. "Pass your glass over."

"No, thanks, I'm actually going to jog round to Aurors. It's only a couple streets away, and as it's late they might agree to give me an interview just to get rid of me." Draco explained as he checked his hair in the reflective oven door.

He looked presentable in grey jeans and a black polo neck jumper. His hair was perfect as always. Yes, he could definitely pass for an experienced P.A.

"That's the spirit." Pansy smiled, already consuming most of her second drink. "Get your sexy arse round there and demand the job!"

"O.K, then." He laughed as he leaned over and kissed Pansy on the cheek. "Save me some for when I get back, yeah?!" he said, nodding toward the bottle which was looking dangerously close to being empty.

"There's plenty more where that came from, besides I deserve more than you because I've had a stressful day!" The brunette whined.

"What, shopping? Oh, yes, stress aplenty!" Draco smirked before gliding from the kitchen.

"I'll have you know that it's very stressful actually!" Pansy called as he pulled on his black shoes and grabbed his keys.

"I'll take your word for it" He called back with a smirk. "See you in a bit"

"Good luck!" He heard Pansy yell as he closed the front door, and he smiled to himself as he thought of the state she'd likely be in when he returned. Pansy was a notorious lightweight.

He jogged down the stairs, cursing the lift, and upon making it out on to the street he turned left and headed for Aurors. The same uneasy knot he felt in his stomach back in the kitchen returned as he made his way to the law firm. He didn't like that it was back after 18 months of living without it. The last year and a half had been a carefree, Nott free existence and he liked it that way. Plastering a smile onto his face, Draco determinedly shifted his unease away and upped his pace.

Thankfully the lights were still on at Aurors when he arrived outside, and it still looked as though it were a busy working day inside. Draco frowned slightly at this, more than a little concerned that - if he was to get the job - he might be required to stay late, too. When would he have happy hour?

Pushing the door open, Draco made his way over to the large reception desk directly ahead of him. A squat plump woman, who greatly resembled a toad, was sat in the chair behind, and when he entered a look of superiority crossed her unattractive face.

"Hi. I was wondering if it would be possible to speak to Harry Potter?" He asked in his most pleasant voice. Most of the time his pleasant voice worked, especially with ugly older women who thought he was trying to flirt, but this toad woman seemed entirely unaffected.

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, her tone suggesting that she was aware he didn't have an appointment and that he was very much below her. Ha.

"No, I don't. I'm here about the Personal Assistant vacancy, though -" He began only to be cut off.

"Applicants are required to send their CV’s by either post or E-mail to the appropriate address. If you are deemed qualified for the position, then you will be notified of an interview by post." The woman explained. Her face conveyed her doubt that Draco would be likely to receive such a letter. Affronted as he was by the hideous woman, he couldn't help but agree with her. Like he was actually going to be nearly qualified enough.

"Look, I just want a quick word with him -"

"That's impossible. Mr Potter is a very busy man and -" The woman began, but the doors opening to her right caught her attention and she swivelled her head round towards the people exiting them.

A man and woman in their mid-twenties came through the doors, smiling. The man, who was strikingly handsome in his slim-fit navy blue suit trousers, white fitted shirt with thin navy blue tie, and tan coloured brogues laughed lightly, and Draco found that the sound sent a tingle down his spine. He studied the man more closely, taking in his messy dark hair that seemed an indistinguishable colour. He couldn't decide whether it was black or dark brown. The man was wearing glasses that framed the most beautiful green eyes Draco had ever seen, and he felt the tingle in his spine double.

The woman who was with him was pretty but not strikingly so. Her curly hair was pulled back into a neat bun that had a pen wedged in it for safe keeping. Her business suit seemed frumpy compared to what the Adonis was wearing beside her, and in all, her entire being seemed overshadowed by his blatant hotness.

"…go home Hermione, before Ron comes down here and accuses us of having an affair" The Adonis laughed, sternly pointing at the exit.

Hermione. The Weasel Woman. Draco scowled in her direction.

"Excuse me Mr…" The toad-like woman was trying to get his attention, and he ripped his eyes away from couple and back to the receptionist.

"Malfoy. Mr Malfoy. And, really is it going to be so difficult to ask Mr Potter for 5 minutes of his time?" Draco bristled. It wasn't like asking much.

"Well, I'm a very busy man." A voice from behind him laughed, and Draco turned to face the Adonis - his interest in the job well and truly piqued now. He could certainly handle  
The Weasel Woman if he got to work for The Dashing Harry. He noticed with relief that said Weasel Woman had left whilst his back had been turned.

"You're Harry Potter?" Draco asked, disbelief apparent in his voice. If the Adonis confirmed that he was then Draco was having this job!

"That's right. And you are?" Harry asked his face open and friendly, and Draco's stomach flipped.

"Draco Malfoy." He said as confidently as he could, extending his hand with a smile brightening his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I was wondering if I could speak to you about the P.A vacancy?" He added.

Harry wrapped his long tan digits around Draco's and shook his hand. 'Firm grip' Draco thought 'Oh, I could definitely put that to use!' and he found himself unable to suppress the smile that sprang to his face. Luckily Draco had a set of perfect white teeth, so he was more than inclined to show them off.

"Ah, well I'm sure Dolores has informed you that you are required to send a CV-" Harry asked with a small frown.

"Yes, she did." Draco replied, eyeing the hideous Dolores who was eavesdropping from behind her desk. "However, curiosity got the better of me. I had to come around and see, for myself, Aurors and of course - you. Wouldn't want to apply for a job for a firm or a boss that I disliked."

He was aware that he was flirting, and he scolded himself for it. He had to at least appear professional; he needed every advantage he could get.

Harry seemed to be vaguely impressed by Draco's forwardness and his eyes appraised the blonde interestedly as he released his hand.

"That's very honest of you, Mr Malfoy. We here at Aurors pride ourselves on honesty and integrity." Harry said, nodding his head with a smile.

Draco suppressed the urge to laugh in the solicitor's face as he processed the man's words. They prided themselves on honesty, yet they represented compulsive liars and criminals. Made sense…

"I like to know that every member of my team is willing to take chances in order to get the desired result. I see you have that quality in droves." Harry added, his smile morphing into an indulgent grin. His body language open and relaxed with his left hip resting against the Toad Woman's desk, almost perching on the edge of it. Unconsciously, he ran his tie between his index and middle finger of his right hand as he gazed at Draco's face.

"So, Mr Malfoy. Upon this mock inspection will we be receiving an application from you?" Harry asked, amusement sparkling in his strikingly green eyes. "If so, I'd be happy to interview you personally…say…tomorrow morning? 10am?" He smiled, turning his head toward Toad Woman "I believe I have a free appointment at that time, Dolores?" He enquired, his forehead creasing into a slight frown. Draco felt the urge to reach over and smooth out the frown lines between Harry's eyebrows with his thumb.

"Well, it appears so, Mr Potter. I was under the impression that applicants were to-" The toad woman began, her chin rising in self-appointed authority.

Harry however was once again focused on Draco and dismissed her query. "Yes, yes, that was going to be the running order of things; however, Mr Malfoy here may be just what I'm looking for. God forbid that I end up with another Hannah." Harry sighed, his sparkling eyes rolling in amusement. He must have seen the curious frown that sprang to Draco's face because he continued. "Hannah was…over excitable. There always tended to be more tea on the case files than words." He smiled. "When she could actually find the case files, that is"

Draco felt a smile slid across his own face, but one that was for a very different reason. Draco was definitely going to be a 'Hannah'.

"Well, 10am sounds perfect." Draco said as confidently as he could, however, he couldn't help the hand that ran nervously through his hair. How on earth was he going to actually get this job?

Harry's smile brightened, and he stood up straight again, once more extending his hand to Draco. "I'm glad to see Aurors has passed your analysis." Harry laughed good naturedly. His expression turned professional as he continued. "You are required to bring your CV and appropriate references, and if I feel that you are suitable, we can organize starting dates etc. If you sign in with Dolores upon arrival you will be given a visitor pass, and if I'm not unexpectedly tied up with a client, I will come out and meet you at promptly 10am."

Draco nodded; clasping his hand around Harry's and returned the firm handshake. "Thank you, Mr Potter. I really appreciate this opportunity." He smiled.

"You're welcome, Mr Malfoy. Until tomorrow, then - have a good evening." Harry nodded, his smile warm as he released Draco's hand and turned to disappear back through the doors he had appeared from. Draco watched Harry's long slender legs tread their way across the plush carpeted floor until they were out of sight, and he felt a string of butterflies begin to dance in the pit of his stomach.

Good lord, well done. That is one fine creature you've created there.

The sound of indignation interrupted Draco's train of thought and he turned to face the Toad Woman. Her face reflected her annoyance at the blonde, and he just smiled widely at her in return.

"Well, Dolores, I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Try not to work too hard, now." He grinned, before he turned to leave. His heart that was floating about in his chest sank slightly when realised that the likelihood of him actually being suitable for the job was pretty non-existent. He prayed, as he jogged back to his flat, that Pansy wasn't so wasted that she couldn't help him lie though his teeth in his CV.

To Be Continued…


	2. Harry

"Harry, if you want my opinion - The mother is lying through her teeth. I mean look at this statement." Hermione said, passing a copy of the 3 page document across the table to Harry.

Harry settled back into his chair with a sigh, a pain shooting up his back from having slept in the damn thing the night before, and eyed the familiar document. He'd read this 4 times already.

"'…He is a drunk and would always hit me if he was in a temper…', '…Our daughter is terrified of him…', '…I'm so afraid of him, and I actually fear he might kill me…'- there was actually an allegation of assault made against her. I just don't know what to think." Harry said throwing the paper onto his desk. "It appears that she is punishing him for his infidelity and she is using their daughter as a weapon; however her allegations are such that they cannot be ignored. I personally don't believe that the father - Mr…Finnegan - has committed half the offences that Mrs Finnegan is alleging, but as you very well know I can hardly call her a liar." Harry said, his fingers arching beneath his chin in concentration.

This case had been driving him mad for weeks now, and he sincerely wished that it would be over with. It riled him that parents could be so selfish when it came to their children. This woman, Mrs Finnegan, was clearly contesting joint custody for their daughter because she was bitter. Harry wasn't unsympathetic toward the woman; after all she had been cheated on by her husband and was now going through a rather nasty divorce; however his sympathy didn't stretch to lying. The fact that she was using her daughter to hurt her husband was cruel, and was ultimately hurting her daughter too.

"Oh, 'Mione, how can people be so flippant with their children?" Harry sighed, his head dropping back against the soft leather back of his chair, his eyes dropping closed in the process.

"Harry, you look exhausted. When exactly did you last sleep…in a bed?" Hermione asked, her voice changing from professional to mothering in a heartbeat.

Harry cracked one of his eyes open and squinted at her. "Don't start." He mumbled.

"Harry, you are going to make yourself ill-" Hermione began, but was cut off by a rap at the door.

They both focused on the door as Harry called for the intruder to enter, and the brunette heaved a mental sigh of relief. He really couldn't be bothered with Hermione's mothering this evening.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Harry, but Mrs Finnegan is here and she is refusing to leave until she speaks with you. She's causing quite a scene in reception." Harry glanced at the clock on his computer and frowned. 5:30pm

"I don't have an appointment with Mrs Finnegan this evening." He said as he stood and straightened his tie. His back screamed in protest as it was forced to leave the comfort of his chair, and he absently massaged the lower right side with his hand as he gazed at the messenger at his door.

"She is quite certain that you do." The young girl answered, her hand resting on the door knob as though she feared getting the blame for the forgotten appointment and wished for a quick getaway.

"Right, Luna. I'll be right out." He said with a small smile, and the blonde girl turned and left his office.

Hermione studied the man before her, her eyebrows knitting together in disapproval. "Harry, this is ridiculous. You need a P.A now. Hannah has really left you in a bind with her incompetence." She scowled, standing from her own chair and placing her hands on her hips.

Harry smiled as he was momentarily reminded of Hermione back in school…she was still as bossy as ever!

"Hermione, I will find the perfect P.A before you can say 'Hogwarts'. Relax." He said, walking over to her and placing a hand on each of her shoulders. "I'm a big boy."

"Hogwarts?" Hermione smirked, her eyebrows shooting up in amusement.

Harry laughed and pulled her forward placing a kiss on her forehead. "I have no idea where that came from." He chuckled, throwing an arm around his friend's waist and leading her from his office. "I better go and sort out the happy client. I'll see you before you leave. 6:30 right?"

"Yes, Ron is quite adamant that we spend our anniversary in a restaurant rather than my office." She replied with a fond smile. "I had to agree, lest he discover our passionate affair and gallop down here and impale you with his sword. I already fear he is becoming suspicious." She added, her face absolutely serious.

"We will have to be more careful, Lady Hermione.…hey, have you ever noticed that we turn medieval when we pretend to be in love. It's quite odd, actually." Harry laughed, backing away from Hermione toward the doors that led to the reception.

Hermione laughed and curtseyed, and just before he opened the doors Harry bowed extravagantly. Neither received much attention from people in the offices around them, all quite used to the pair's outbursts of oddness. Harry and Hermione laughed that the luxury of being slightly eccentric was one they could afford seeing as they co-owned the firm.

"I will see you before sunset fair Lady Hermione and we will embrace before you break my heart for your…husband." Harry announced, his hands clasped at his heart, and he made a show of blowing her a kiss before sliding out of the doors, the sound of Hermione's laughter tinkling out with him.

The atmosphere in the reception was the polar opposite to the one he had just left back in the office area, and he arranged his expression from jest to polite indifference to accommodate the frosty climate.

Mrs Finnegan was engaging in a battle of filthy looks with Dolores, and Harry frowned at his receptionist's lack of professionalism. The woman had a habit of believing herself to be high and mighty, and often offended clients. Her efficiency and dedication to her job were the only things keeping her in said job.

"Dolores, perhaps you could arrange for some tea to be brought to my office. Thank you." He said, his eyes looking over the top of his glasses sternly at the middle aged woman. He could tell by the flare of her nostrils that she detested being ordered around by someone half her age.

Turning his back on the woman, -who in Harry's opinion reminding him of something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, the bow she always wore on her head adding to the effect - and faced Mrs Finnegan who was sitting ram rod straight in one of the many scarlet stuffy chairs that filled the reception area.

With his best calming professional voice, Harry addressed the woman. "Mrs Finnegan, I apologize for keeping you, would you like to follow me to my office?"

"Please, Mr Potter -" She breathed, standing and making her way over to Harry. "- Call me Lavender. All this 'Mrs Finnegan' business only reminds me how quickly I'd like my divorce to be over with." She added, a strained smile spreading across her face.

Harry flashed an indulgent smile, and showed her to his office. The tray of tea was already positioned on his desk, and he vaguely wondered how Dolores could have organized it so quickly. The office junior Luna, looking quite frazzled as she dashed past his office as he closed the door gave him his answer. Poor thing, he should really look into giving her a small pay rise. Dolores really did run her ragged.

Turning to face Lavender, who had already settled into a chair in front of his desk, Harry made his way over to his own seat and tried not to sigh in relief as his back rejoiced at the comfort.

Subtly trying to arrange some of the disarray that was his desk, Harry focused on the woman before him. "I've been going over some of your statements with my partner, Hermione Weasley, and we are both at a bit of loss. Without legitimate proof, your allegations aren't likely to hold much water before a judge. After all, Mr Finnegan hasn't harmed your daughter in any way, and this is a custody dispute. It's your daughter's welfare that is under scrutiny." Harry said trying his best not to sound rude. Every piece of information in the statement given by Lavender had been about herself. She was clearly extraordinarily selfish.

"But she's afraid of him!" Lavender snapped, her hand whipping up and flicking some of her bottle blonde hair away from her heavily made up face. "You can tell she is, she always cries."

"Your daughter is just under a year old, correct?" Harry asked, his eyes focused on one of the statements that lay on his desk. He picked it up and momentarily hid his face behind it, fearing that the feeling of utter annoyance that was washing over him would be reflected on his face. She's a baby - babies cry!

"Yes, and she cries whenever he is around." The blonde woman announced.

"Is it only in the presence of Mr Finnegan that your daughter becomes upset?" Harry asked knowing the answer before it even came out of her mouth.

"Well, no. But it's louder when he's around." She replied, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Harry suppressed a groan. This was going to be a long hour.

After much annoyance on Harry's part, his session with Lavender drew to a close and she informed him that she had an appointment the next day in which she would bring her daughter.

When she left Harry fell back into his chair, exasperation causing him to forget his back pain for a moment. He really despised people who put their own feelings before that of their children.

"Hey. You look irritated; I take it you had a tiresome session with Mrs Finnegan?" Hermione's voice floated through his door, sounding amused.

He looked up, his face blank. "Is it that obvious?" He asked dryly. Upon noticing Hermione's briefcase in her hand, Harry jumped up remembering that she had to leave.

"Oh, only blatantly so." She smiled as he approached her.

"Oh, go home, you wench." He breathed, a small smile on his face. "But first I recall booking an embrace. Gimmie." He whined before enveloping her in a hug. "Tell that husband of yours that you are to, in no uncertain terms, step foot in this office tomorrow! Spend the day together, do you hear me!"

Hermione groaned, which to anyone overhearing would sound ungrateful, however Harry was on the same wavelength as his friend and totally understood her reluctance.

"Hey, this office only has room for one workaholic, and I've already secured the title. Now bugger off home." Harry laughed, and began steering her toward the exit.

"Yes, well, make sure you go home tonight Harry. I will check!" She retorted smartly as she let herself be led out the door.

Harry laughed at her reluctance and mothering. "I'm positively shaking with fright, fair maiden."

"Ha ha" Hermione smiled, as they entered the reception area.

Harry steered her toward the door before she could put up any resistance. "I will call you if there is an emergency, I promise. Now, go home Hermione, before Ron comes down here and accuses us of having an affair." He laughed.

"Yes, I'm sure he will think that! " Rolling her eyes at her friend, Hermione kissed him on the cheek and made her way out the door and to her car. Harry, all the while laughing, watched her until she was safely in her vehicle and driving away before turning around and taking in the reception.

The red and gold colour scheme was really beginning to get on his nerves now. He'd have to look in to getting it redone. Perhaps green and silver…that could work.

A frustrated voice drew Harry's attention toward Dolores' desk and he was surprised to find a rather attractive man stood in front of it.

"Malfoy. Mr Malfoy. And, really is it going to be so difficult to ask Mr Potter for 5 minutes of his time?" The man asked with an odd kind of determination in his voice. Harry ran his eyes down the length of the man's body in approval. He was certainly something to look at, even from the back. And his hair was shockingly blonde, not at all brassy and false as Lavender's had been.

Harry decided to save the young man from Dolores.

"Well, I'm a very busy man." He said clearly, making his way over toward the desk.

The young man spun around, and Harry found that he was extremely handsome, if not slightly pretty looking. There was something distinctly feminine about him.

The man's face portrayed disbelief as he gazed at Harry, and he could tell that he was surprised by Harry's youth. It was the same with almost every new client that walked through the door. Harry wasn't at all surprised when the man voiced his disbelief

"You're Harry Potter?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly.

Harry smiled, feeling unexpectedly drawn to the other man. A funny sort of warmth that he hadn't experienced before filtered through his veins as he studied the blonde.

"That's right. And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy." The blonde replied, an air of confidence radiating off him as he extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I was wondering if I could speak to you about the P.A vacancy?"

Harry, who had placed his hand in Draco's as he mentioned the P.A vacancy, squeezed his fingers a fraction more than he usually would when shaking somebody's hand, but he couldn't help it. How uncanny that he had just promised Hermione he would find a P.A and here one stood, extraordinarily handsome and confident to boot. Harry hadn't even said 'Hogwarts' yet. It was almost like magic.

"Ah, well I'm sure Dolores has informed you that you are required to send a C.V-" Stuff the C.V, the job's yours! He added in his head. He was surprised when Draco cut him off mid sentence.

"Yes, she did." He said, and Harry repressed a smirk when the blonde eyed Dolores with a look of disdain. She had obviously been working her own brand of magic before Harry had interrupted. "However, curiosity got the better of me. I had to come round and see, for myself, Aurors and of course - you. Wouldn't want to apply for a job for a firm or a boss that I disliked."

Releasing Draco's hand that he noticed with a flush he was still holding Harry felt his eyebrows rise slightly at the blonde's honesty. To say he wasn't impressed by the other man's forwardness would've been a complete lie.

"That's very honest of you, Mr Malfoy. We here at Aurors pride ourselves on honesty and integrity." He informed, the motto that Hermione insist they say to every new client slipping from his mouth. He tried not to cringe at the stupidity of it. They worked in Law. Who was honest and in possession of integrity in this business.

He could tell from the other man's expression that he found as much substance in Harry's words as Harry did, which only boosted the blonde's appeal. Aware that Dolores was listening, Harry continued his forced speech feeling his smile turn into a grin as he spoke.

"I like to know that every member of my team is willing to take chances in order to get the desired result. I see you have that quality in droves."

A twinge in his back caused him to sink against the desk and he hoped that he didn't appear unprofessional. Perching on a table while talking to a prospective new employee was hardly a standard he'd expect in his firm. However, his back was seriously hurting. Perhaps he should book a massage tomorrow…

He felt his gaze shift from Draco's face to his excruciatingly soft looking hair and fought the urge to run his fingers through it. He absently slid his tie between his fingers, and wondered if Draco's hair would feel as silky. With a quick mental shake, Harry focused back on Draco.

"So, Mr Malfoy. Upon this mock inspection will we be receiving an application from you?" Harry asked. Say yes, say yes. "If so, I'd be happy to interview you personally…say…tomorrow morning? 10am?"

Smiling to himself, and trying not to appear like a desperate saddo, Harry turned to the not so pleasant face of his receptionist.

"I believe I have a free appointment at that time, Dolores?" He asked trying to remember if his schedule was free or not. He'd bloody well make sure it was free, if it wasn't. His heart soared when he caught the look of disdain on the receptionist's face.

"Well, it appears so, Mr Potter. I was under the impression that applicants were to-" She began, but Harry turned back to look at the handsome face of Draco again.

"Yes, yes, that was going to be the running order of things; however Mr Malfoy here may be just what I'm looking for. God forbid that I end up with another Hannah." Harry sighed as he remembered the mess she had made in her 6 months as his P.A. He was sure he had lost dozens of clients due to her incompetence. However, he found it hard to really feel any bad will toward her knowing that her absence had made way for the truly gorgeous individual standing before him.

An adorable frown made its way onto Draco's face and Harry decided to elaborate. "Hannah was…over excitable. There always tended to be more tea on the case files than words…when she could actually find the case files, that is"

An understanding smile that didn't quite sit right with Harry sprang to Draco's face, and he was more than a little certain that the other man was trying not to laugh.

"Well, 10am sounds perfect." The blonde agreed casually, a pale hand reaching up and brushing back some of the hair that had fallen into his eyes. Harry watched, desperately wishing he could ask whether it felt as silky as it looked. Strike that, he wanted to feel if it was as silky as it looked.

The brunette felt his smile widen as he processed the other man's confirmation, and he stood up straight again ignoring the pain in his back and extended his hand to once again feel Draco's warm, smooth palm.

"I'm glad to see Aurors has passed your analysis." Harry laughed, and he decided that he had to start reining it in. Dolores was beginning to look at them with a knowing expression.

His forced his expression to turn professional as he continued. "You are required to bring your C.V and appropriate references, and if I feel that you are suitable we can organize starting dates etc. If you sign in with Dolores upon arrival you will be given a visitor pass, and if I'm not unexpectedly tied up with a client, I will come out and meet you at promptly 10am."

Draco nodded, clasping his hand around Harry's, returning the firm handshake that caused an odd butterfly type feeling to explode in his stomach. Who would've thought a simple handshake with a complete stranger could cause such a sensation.

"Thank you, Mr Potter. I really appreciate this opportunity." Draco smiled, his perfect white teeth sparkling in the strip lighting.

"You're welcome, Mr Malfoy. Until tomorrow, then - have a good evening." Harry nodded, reluctantly releasing Draco's hand and forcing himself to turn around and walk away without another word.

He refused to turn around for one last look knowing how pathetic it would look, however, he didn't think himself above watching Draco leave the building and walk down the street from his office window.

The blonde had a definite swing to his hips as he walked, something that was almost hypnotising, and Harry found that he couldn't look away until the other man was out of sight. With a smile Harry turned and dumped himself in his chair, wincing as his back twinged.

Yes, he'd definitely have to have a massage. His smile widened as thought that that could be Draco's first duty as his P.A.

To Be Continued…


	3. A second, first impression

"Do you think I look…poofy?" Draco asked delicately, appraising himself from every possible angle in his full length mirror.

Pansy snorted, her bloodshot eyes rolling in amusement. She was currently buried in Draco's duvet, her head resting against his mammoth mountain of pillows - the absolute picture of comfort.

"Draco, no matter what you wear, no matter how you wear it…you always look 'poofy'!" She replied, her voice sounding as though her throat were lined with sandpaper; however the evident delight in teasing Draco somehow made it through.

The blonde, who could see her in the reflection of the mirror, narrowed his eyes and glared at her. Did she really need to be smart, today of all days?

"Get out of my bed and bugger off!" He sniped half heartedly; ripping off the black shirt he was wearing and throwing it over his shoulder.

Turning back to his wardrobe, he ran a critical eye over his choices. He had a lot of formal attire due to his 'Only wear an outfit to social occasions once' rule, however he didn't want to look over-dressed. He had suits, but he always felt like a 7 year old trying on his father's clothing whenever he wore one. Besides, he wanted to look smart but sexy. Sexy was the key to getting this job.

He spotted a pair of charcoal slim-fit trousers and a fitted white shirt hanging at the end of his clothes rail and he snagged it with enthusiasm. Teamed with a designer belt, brogues and a skinny black tie, he could actually pull 'sexy' off.

"I can't get out of bed, I'm ill!" Pansy moaned from behind him as he begun stripping off the pinstripe trousers he was wearing to be replaced by the grey. He kept his eyes away from the heaps of clothes that currently littered his bedroom floor for fear of having a panic attack.

"You're not ill, you're hung-over! How does my arse look in these trousers?" Draco asked, twisting around to show her his rear whilst also attempting to look himself.

"Edible." Pansy croaked in amusement. "So, I take it the solicitor is hot? You're being even more vain then usual."

Draco, who was buttoning up his shirt, suddenly found the buttons very interesting. He kept his gaze planted on his fingers as he answered. "Well, considering my C.V is full of complete and utter bollocks - and I have no idea how the hell I'm going to pull it all off - I figured if I at least look good, there's a chance they might just escort me from the building when they find out what a fraud I am, rather than throw me out."

"You're avoiding the question. That means he's really hot!" Pansy retorted, watching as Draco buckled his belt and began tying his tie. She suppressed a smile as she took in the air of nervousness surrounding the blonde. It was blatantly obvious that Draco's preening was because of a guy and not the reason he had given.

Draco's fingers couldn't seem to get to grips with his tie and after a few attempts Pansy took pity on him.

"Come here, you imbecile, before you strangle yourself!" She huffed, pushing herself into a sitting position.

Draco sighed with frustration and gave in. Sinking against the edge of his bed, he allowed Pansy to fix the mess he had made.

"Draco, relax. You are clever and intuitive, and you will sail through this interview." Pansy smiled, her hands, finished with his tie, resting comfortingly against his chest. "Unless there's something else that's worrying you?"

Draco, who had been staring at the floor, glanced up at Pansy's face and swiftly looked away again. The uncertainty and vulnerability in the action wasn't lost on her.

"Do you really think I can do this?" Draco whispered, his eyes on his fingers that were fiddling with the end of his tie. "I mean…I don't have the best track record…"

"Now, you listen to me, Draco Malfoy. You can do this. I don't care what's been said to you in the past - You are clever, you are not an idiot. If you want to be a P.A, you can be a P.A, and there is nothing or no one that can stop you." Pansy said fiercely, her eyebrows pulling together in pained exasperation. She truly hated that her, once confident, best friend doubted himself.

Draco continued to gaze at his hands, his teeth pulling at his lip. "Theo -" he began only to be cut off.

"To hell with Theo!" Pansy snapped, her eyes that had been half closed seconds before now wide, a fierce determination sparkling in their depths. Upon seeing the blonde shift uncomfortably at her demand, she reined in her sudden anger at the man who had wronged her best friend, and she tried a different method.

"Now…you look hot, and you're wearing some sexy arsed aftershave! You get that edible backside of yours round to that law firm and demand that job." She smiled, her hand coming to rest against his cheek in a rare moment of comfort.

Draco sighed and gazed at his friend, a bubble of warmth appearing in his stomach at the tenderness of her actions. It wasn't very often that he needed these moments of assurance anymore, but when he did Pansy always came through.

"Thanks Pans." He said with a soft smile, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

"I live to serve." She sighed dramatically. "Now piss off so I can get some sleep."

******************

"Where the fuck is the fucking aspirin?" Harry growled to himself as he searched the staff lounge medical box.

The pain that had been in his back the day before had now increased to a fever pitch, and he was finding it more and more difficult to not just lock his office door and collapse on the floor. However, he had such a jam-packed day that he had no choice other than to self medicate and hope that the pain would subside until he had a chance to find a good chiropractor.

"Harry, your 9:30 is here." Luna's dreamy voice drifted into the room, and Harry gingerly turned to face her, confusion washing over him as he frowned at her.

"I don't have a 9:30, I'm interviewing for a P.A at ten." He confirmed with a dismissive shake of his head. "Now, do you have any idea where I can find a good dose of pain relief round here, Luna?" He asked, his attention back on the useless medical kit.

"Oh, well it's Mrs Finnegan again and she has a loud squawking baby with her, shall I ask her to leave?" Luna asked dreamily, her serene face showing that she was being serious. "And I have something in my bag that will take the edge off pain, would you like some?"

"Really? Erm, you know, I think I'll pass Luna." Harry replied, feeling it was probably best not to know what she used to 'take the edge off pain' with. She was really rather sweet, but if he found out she had brought drugs into work he'd have to fire her. "And you had better send Mrs Finnegan in, if the baby is crying she might want to hurry home." He added hopefully, trying his best to straighten out.

The blonde girl hurried out of the staffroom and Harry followed, making his way over to his office. Every single step made him wince and he sighed with relief when he finally made it to his chair. Much to his dismay, he heard the wails of a distressed child getting louder and all too soon it was in his office, and he had to stand to greet his client.

"Lavender, how are you? And Parvati, what a beautiful child." Harry smiled forcedly, gazing at the bright red screaming girl thrashing about in her mother's arms. The brunette swallowed, and prayed that the session would be over soon.

Luna interrupted the session after what felt like an eternity to Harry, and his heart sank when she announced that his 10 o'clock had arrived and that she had escorted him to the staff lounge. He knew that with the added distraction of having the hot guy from yesterday waiting a few rooms away coupled with a child that was quite possibly possessed, he wouldn't get very far with the rest of the meeting. He figured he'd have to delegate.

"Luna, if it's alright with Mrs Finnegan here, why don't you take Parvati to the Staff lounge and keep her happy until we're done here?" Harry said, his eyes falling on Lavender, whose face lit up.

"Oh, yes. That's fine with me, take her. She likes singing, which might work to shut her up." She said dumping her daughter in a scared looking Luna's arms and falling back into her chair with a broad smile.

Harry was momentarily taken aback by the apparent 'loving tentative' mother's eagerness to offload her daughter on someone she didn't even know. A sudden surge of anger welled up inside Harry at the woman's blatant disregard for her own child, and he fought to suppress it. How on earth was he supposed to stand in front of a judge and say that this woman was the correct parent for the child to live with when she was so willing to pass her on to a complete stranger?

Harry's eyes flickered up to a startled Luna as Lavender began patting her nose with a compact mirror shoved in front of her face, and he instantly felt bad for volunteering the blonde girl to ward the screaming bundle of joy when he saw the utter terror on her face. He figured she would be O.K though. She was a girl after all - Girls loved babies, right?

"Luna could you make sure that Mr Malfoy has been offered some tea please?" Harry asked flashing the girl an apologetic smile. She nodded, her actions not quite as dreamy as usual, and turned to leave with the screeching little girl held at arms length.

As Lavender began applying lipstick to her already bright red lips, Harry scowled and wondered how the hell he was going to represent this moronic woman in her quest for custody when he wouldn't even trust her with his cat. And Harry didn't even have a cat! That's how little he trusted her - He wouldn't even trust her with his imaginary, non-existent cat.

'O.K, that's not good' he thought wryly as he settled down for another half an hour with her. 'At least I'm only 28 minutes away from the hot guy'.

*********************

Draco looked up as the blonde hippy girl who had shown him to the 'staff lounge' trotted in with a demon spawn hanging from her hands. The hippy - who had introduced herself as Luna, and Draco had promptly renamed 'Loony' in his head, was gazing at the infant with absolute fear and disbelief, and Draco found himself grinning at the sight.

"Oh, hello Draco." She said, her large protruding eyes sliding to land on him. "This is a baby. I've been told it likes singing, but all it's done so far is cry rather loudly." She announced as she sat down beside him, still holding the squirming child away from her body. Much like a bomb.

Draco pressed his lips together and fought the urge to laugh as he processed the odd woman's statement. Shaking his head slightly, and vaguely wondering if she were on drugs, Draco gave her some advice.

"They probably meant she likes to be sung to, not that she sings herself." He smirked.

"Oh, it's a 'she'? How can you tell?" She wondered out loud, and Draco's smirk widened as his gaze swept to the baby in all its pink, frilly dressed glory.

"Just a stab in the dark." He replied, trying his hardest not to laugh at the woman who was quite possibly mentally challenged.

"Would you like some tea?" Luna asked as though the conversation had begun to bore her and she wanted to change the subject. Draco's eyes widened as he imagined the loony hippy attempting to manage a baby and scolding water at the same time.

"Oh, no, no! I'm fine." He said quickly, his eyes now fixed on the still wailing, thrashing child with concern. "Where is her mother?" He asked, hoping that the child didn't belong to the hippy.

"Oh, she's in with Harry. Harry's very good; he shouldn't be too long with her." She replied before turning to him. "Could you just hold it for a minute whilst I go and fetch the play box from reception? I think we have one of those things for the floor that it can sit in and be entertained."

Draco frowned, and not having a chance to reply, the baby was thrust into his hands and the hippy began walking away. "Wait, I could be a lunatic for all you know…" He said, only to receive a small unconcerned smile in return and she disappeared out the door.

"Well, more of a lunatic than you." He added under his breath, before turning his attention to the wriggling girl in his arms.

"Hello. I'm Draco….I'm just going to call you…Red Baby. You know if we were in the reception, the shade of your face would go with the colour scheme. However, I'm afraid in here, with it being lilac, you kind of clash. That's never a good thing, Sweetheart. That's sooo embarrassing for you." He laughed to himself and rolled his eyes when he realised he was talking bollocks to an infant that was still crying. Where the hell had that hippy gone?

Draco began bouncing his knee hoping that the rhythm would soothe the girl, but it didn't - she wailed louder.

"Are you really going to make me sing to you?" He asked her, a serious frown on his face which melted into a smile when she giggled slightly.

"Good lord, you're going to melt some hearts." He smiled. "And good work with the 'crying to get what you want' thing. It took me 20 years to learn that - you've got it down in what? 9 months? Seriously advanced. You're a diva in the making."

The baby girl cooed in his arms, and promptly shoved her entire podgy fist in her mouth secreting a fair amount of saliva in the process.

Simply to fill the silence, Draco began to hum, all the while wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into applying for this job. Was this a regular occurrence - having an unknown baby thrust upon you?

Upon seeing the exhausted child's eyes begin to droop as she calmed herself down, Draco continued to hum, occasionally singing various words under his breath, until he was out and out singing to the child.

It was more out of comfort to himself than for the child. Music always seemed to calm him down, and the longer he waited to be interviewed, the more nervous and pessimistic he became.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

******************

"O.K, Lavender, I think we've covered a lot of ground today. I'm sure you're desperate to get Parvati back, I'll just go and fetch Luna." Harry smiled forcedly, and suppressing a grimace he stood and made his way out of his office, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it.

That woman hadn't shut up for the entire half hour and she had given no new information. She may as well have just brought some of her friends along and declared it a coffee morning for the usefulness it was.

"Hi, Harry. You look ill, are you sure you don't want anything for your pain?" Luna's dreamy voice inquired, and Harry's stomach dropped when he looked at her to find her carrying a stack of files.

"Erm, Luna, where's Parvati?" He asked, his mind listing possible places the dopey girl could have left the baby. A drawer? Good, God! This place is full of drawers, we might never find her!

"Who?" She replied, a small foreign frown on her face.

Harry's eyes widened as he gazed at her, and his breathing stepped up a notch. "Mrs Finnegan's baby, Luna. The baby I asked you to care for. Remember?" He asked stepping forward and clasping her shoulders, making sure nothing shiny was in her line of vision that could distract her. "The baby, Luna. The baby! Surely, you remember?!"

A moment of blankness appeared on the girl's face before a spark of recognition brightened her eyes. "Oh, yes. She's in the staff lounge with Draco. He's very nice. He told me she was a girl, so he knows about kids."

Harry felt the colour drain from his face as his mouth went slack. "You…you left her with a stranger?! Oh, my god." Harry gasped before he dashed off in a semi hobble towards the staff lounge, his mind trying to block out the fact that his law practice would be shut down if the child wasn't still in the building. Although, he could probably distract the mother with a mirror if need be.

He drew closer to the lounge and his heart began slamming in his chest when he realised how quiet it was. Oh, God, he's kidnapped her! He's a child trafficker who uses his stunning good looks to make unsuspecting office juniors hand over children that aren't theirs.

Drawing up to the door, Harry paused.

"'Cause the scars run so deep, It's been hard, but I have to believe..."

Harry peered through the gap in the door and found the most incredible sight he had ever seen. Parvati was sound asleep, spread out across one of the couches with a row of cushions beside her so she didn't fall off the edge. Not that she would've had a chance to fall, as Draco sat by her feet, his blonde head bowed over her as he softly sung to her. Her chubby little hand gripping his index finger.

"Cause I, I just need time, my heart is numb, has no feeling. So while I'm still healing. Just try, and have a little patience."

The room went quiet, and Harry watched Draco watching Parvati, a small smile on the blonde's lips as he ever so gently brushed some of her curly brown hair away from her face.

"Huh, you're actually a normal colour when you're not screaming like a banshee." He whispered to the sleeping girl, his odd coloured eyes dancing with amusement. "You know what, Princess? I think we've been forgotten about." He continued in a low voice, only this time he seemed to be talking to himself more than Parvati.

Harry was so enraptured that he forgot that he was actually supposed to be fetching the baby girl. Instead he continued to stare through the crack in the door jam, his eyes fixed on the perfectly angular face of his potential new P.A. Oh, who was he kidding - There was no potential about it. He'd already informed payroll that a Mr Malfoy would be starting the following Monday.

The blonde looked very good in suit trousers and a white shirt, with a thin, black tie that somehow made his hair appear more shockingly white somehow. He looked the epitome of sophistication, and Harry straightened his own tie whilst running a hand through his hair self consciously.

Draco pulled a sleek smart phone from his pocket, and after swiping a few times at the screen, he began speaking in a low voice.

"Pans, do you remember you said that, quote 'I have found the most perfect job for you'?…." He paused while the person on the other end of the line replied, his eyebrows rising with each passing second. "…Well, so far I have managed to have a conversation with a woman that makes Forest Gump look like Albert friggin' Einstein, and I'm currently babysitting!" At this point the pulled the phone away from his ear, a scowl springing to his face that made Harry press his lips together to keep from smiling.

"Stop laughing, you little witch….Yes, it is that bad, and I haven't even been interviewed yet! I'm beginning to think that this is the interview. You know, like an endurance test...I am not being paranoid!"

Harry looked around the area surrounding the door and found that he was alone, so he found it safe to make his presence known to the unsuspecting man in the staff lounge. "Oh, yes. I'll get Hermione to look into it when she comes in tomorrow." He said loudly to no one, and he smiled when he heard Draco quickly end his call.

Walking into the room with an apologetic smile, Harry nodded to Draco "Mr Malfoy, hi. I am so sorry about this." He said gesturing to the sleeping tot. "This isn't how we usually work here." He assured, shaking his head. He took a step backward and called for Luna, who appeared out of nowhere and took the stirring baby back to her mother.

Draco stood and straightened out his trousers, swiping his messenger bag from the arm of the couch and fidgeting with it nervously as the hippy escorted his little friend away.

"So, Mr Malfoy. Would you like to follow me?" Harry asked with a smile, his hand extending towards the door.

They walked in silence along a row of cubicles to what appeared to be a small conference room. Draco's eyes flickering around attempting to take in everything before Harry closed the door and gestured for him to sit at the table, whilst the brunette sat on the opposite side. Draco noticed the tiny almost indiscernible wince on Harry's face as he lowered himself into his seat, and Draco vaguely wondered why that was.

"Firstly, before we start I just want to apologize for the mix up in my schedule. Unfortunately things aren't running as smoothly as I'd like, but hopefully that problem should be rectified soon enough." He said with a smile, his sparkling green eyes remaining locked on Draco's the whole time he spoke. "Secondly, I'm sorry that Parvati was left with you. I will be having a word with Luna about that. I'm not sure if you're aware, but I specialise in family law, and sometimes children are brought in to sessions. The welfare of those children is of the utmost importance to me, and the fact that a member of my team was so flippant with the safety of a young child is something I cannot and will not overlook." He said sternly, and Draco felt oddly mesmerised by the brunette's conviction.

"However, from what I could tell, you did a stellar job. Getting that child to sleep mustn't have been a very easy feat." Harry smiled remembering the little scene he had witnessed back in the staff lounge.

Draco blushed ever so slightly and cleared his throat, preparing to speak to Harry for the first time.

"Yes, she was pretty vocal. It didn't take me long to work out what she wanted, though." He smiled. So, she was called Parvati? If he was honest, he preferred the name Red Baby.

Harry's smile brightened as he shifted in his chair, and Draco felt his eyes travel to the brunette's dishevelled hair. My, my, you really are agonizingly hot, aren't you?

"Intuition. I like that." Harry said, nodding his head slightly. "So, your C.V." he added, his eyes leaving Draco's for the first time to land on the small file in front of the blonde, who hastily handed it to him.

A wave of nausea slammed into him as Harry began leafing through his previous employment record and qualifications, and he began mentally berating himself for putting himself through this ordeal. The man opposite him was obviously qualified up to the eyeballs, and all Draco's C.V showed was that he had GCSEs! GCSEs and no experience. Unless you counted a few odd jobs that only lasted a few weeks at best. However, after much thought the night before, Draco had decided against lying in the employment document. After all, these people were likely to check up on it and if by some miracle of God that he actually got the job; his lack of experience would soon become apparent. Best to be up front, he thought.

"Wow, you attended Durmstrang Academy? Impressive. I expect that was very intense." Harry commented, a certain amount of awe in his voice that was unexpected.

Draco wasn't used to people recognising the name of the school he had attended. Durmstrang Academy was a prestigious boarding school that only children of the aristocratic elite were privy to attend.

"Actually, it was surprisingly laid back. Although, it was definitely the sort of place that shapes a person." Draco replied wryly. He'd lost his virginity at Durmstrang. The selection of guys there had very much shaped him as a person. His sexuality had never stood a chance.

"I see you have a 4 year gap between school and your first job for Miss Parkinson at Slytherin Designs." Harry noted, his eyes drifting from the file up to the blonde's face, curiously.

He couldn't quite work out why someone who had attended Durmstrang (Durmstrang!) would apply to be a secretary? That school churned out politicians and heart surgeons, for crying out loud.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Harry raised the subject he had been dreading the most, and he knew that once he replied to it he would most definitely be rejected for the position. He just hoped that Harry wouldn't call him out on the lie.

"I was trying to find myself." He said, a forced smile sliding onto his face. God, he sounded so stupid, but he knew that the truth was worse. So he lied.

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he chuckled softly as he returned his focus back to the paper in front of him. "It took you four years?" He enquired with a sly smile.

"I have a terrible sense of direction." Draco replied, and the knot in his stomach loosened ever so slightly when Harry laughed. A light tinkling laugh that showed he was amused by the joke rather than the situation.

"Me, too." He retorted. "So, I'm guessing by the fact that you're sitting here that you found yourself safe and sound?" The brunette continued, carrying on the light joking banter, once again adjusting his position in his chair with a small wince.

"Eventually." Draco nodded. "Look, I know I don't have any experience, but I'm a fast learner and what I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm." He said, leaning forward in his chair as though to drive the point home to Harry. He could tell from the cheeky grin on Harry's face that the brunette got the point.

"Oh, I don't doubt it." He breathed, gazing at Draco's face for a long moment.

As though realising what he was doing, Harry looked away and back at the C.V, and Draco let go of the breath he was holding. Bloody hell, those eyes should come with a health warning, he thought incredulously as his heart fluttered around his chest.

"So, if you don't mind me saying - your name - it's very unusual." The brunette commented after a moment of silence as he stared at the perfect italic handwriting that spelled out Draco's name on the paper.

The blonde seemed to prefer this part of the conversation because his smile changed from forced to a warmer genuine quirk of his lips. "Yes, my parents were rather creative, weren't they? Draco is Latin - meaning dragon. Malfoy is French - meaning bad faith. It's almost like the name the enemy of a superhero has, isn't it? He finished with a soft laugh, and Harry felt his stomach clench pleasantly at the sound, and he couldn't help but mimic the gesture.

Again, Harry wondered what the blonde was doing there. How could someone so charismatic, and of obvious aristocracy judging by his choice of schooling, be sat in front of Harry - who attended a local comprehensive - without a single career prospect?

"I'm sorry, I have to ask, to attend Durmstrang you must be of a certain…breeding. I mean to say, that not your average Joe could walk in from off the street and expect to attend. I'm sorry to be crass, but you're of obvious wealth - Why wouldn't you hold out for a job with more…status?" Harry asked, his forehead forming a curious frown that unnerved Draco. Unnerved in the sense that he felt compelled to answer when he didn't actually want to.

"Sometimes life shows you that it's the small things that give you the biggest rewards. Big dreams and aspirations often lead to a big fall - A lesson I learned the hard way. I'm not looking for status…just the reward of doing a days work. If I indirectly make someone's life a little better because of that work, then it was job well done." Draco shrugged, and he could tell by shift in Harry's facial expression that he had said something right. The brunette positively glowed as he processed the remark, and Draco felt his hopes finally make an appearance. Could that one comment actually get him this job?

"Good answer." Harry smirked. "Look, I had this whole interview procedure planned out, however from what I've learned about you so far, I really don't think there's any point." he continued, shaking his head as he once again gazed at Draco's handwriting, paying no attention to the actual words.

Draco's hope instantly died and he felt an almost painful sense of disappointment slam into him. He didn't have the job, he was being rejected.

"I can already tell that you'll be perfect." Harry breathed, his gaze totally focused on the blonde man in front of him. Yes, absolutely perfect.

Draco's expression was so disbelieving that Harry almost laughed, however he sensed that that would probably be the wrong thing to do. There was something about the blonde that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was something that he wanted to uncover. The way the other man spoke of his past was like lighting a spark of curiosity inside Harry. He didn't believe the whole 'Trying to find himself' excuse for a minute, however for the moment it was O.K, he would live with it.

He found himself wanting to know what Draco's dreams and aspirations had been, and what had caused them to be so completely dashed and he figured that the blonde would likely tell him if and when he wanted to and not a second before.

"Are you being serious?" Draco asked, his tone as disbelieving as his expression. "I've…I've got the job?…You're giving me the job?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the blonde. "Yes, I'm offering you the job. You'll obviously need some training; you'll probably shadow another P.A for a few days to get the basic gist of the job. However, everyone works differently - I won't necessarily expect the same things of you as Hermione would her P.A - but it helps to get a feel for the job from someone with similar responsibilities. Sound O.K?" He asked, and the fluttering of butterflies erupted in his stomach as he watched Draco's smile become brighter and brighter the longer he spoke. The blonde seemed truly flabbergasted when he replied.

"Yes, of course, that sounds great." He laughed, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe his luck.

"I must warn you though, you may be required to work some unsociable hours if I get a demanding case, and there may be instances where you're required to accompany me to trials and such - in which case your travel and accommodation would be paid for by the company and you would be paid overtime."

Draco subtly pinched his leg under the table and was truly surprised when he didn't wake up and find that he was having the world's best dream. He was being offered a great job where he'd sometimes get to travel, stay in a hotel and get paid for it…with the most gorgeous guy on the planet? It must be God loves Draco day! 

"That's fine with me." He replied, and the smile that appeared on Harry's face made Draco's heart grind to halt. It was simply breathtaking.

"Fantastic." He breathed, swivelling around on his chair and making to stand. However, the small winces he had been trying to hide had all grouped together to give him a fierce stab of pain in which he couldn't disguise. Gasping rather loudly, he clamped his teeth over his bottom lip and gripped the table for support.

Draco's eyes widened at the display of distress, and as he watched one of Harry's hands fly down and support his lower back he finally understood the awkward movements and winces of pain.

He had backache.

"Hey, are you O.K?" The blonde enquired, tilting his head so he could see Harry's eyes from beneath his fringe that had fallen forward, and with a deep breath, the brunette pushed himself up straight and swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed about in his throat.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a case of sciatica, I think." Harry replied, and he suppressed the urge to follow through on giving Draco his first duty. Although, he really could do with a massage.

"Well, if you come back at 8am Monday morning we can get you started with your training, and you'll have to fill out a ton of paper work so you should bring bank details etc." Harry informed as he made his way round the table toward the door. Draco stood and followed suit, his face so happy he looked as though he might burst.

"Sounds great." The blonde replied as they began to make their way to the doors that led to the reception. Noticing Harry's near grimace, Draco stopped. "Thank you for this opportunity, Mr Potter." He smiled, holding his hand out to the brunette, who wrapped his fingers around Draco's in another firm handshake.

"You're welcome. And, please, call me Harry." He requested, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

"I'll find my way out, you don't need to walk any further then you have too." Draco insisted, reluctantly pulling his hand from Harry's and adjusting the shoulder strap of his bag. "I'll see you Monday." He added, not giving Harry a chance to insist that he take him any further.

"That you will. Have a good weekend, Draco." Harry smiled, as he leant against the nearest wall.

Draco turned and began walking away when he remembered something. Opening his bag and rummaging as he walked, he found what he was looking for and turned back to find Harry watching him.

"Catch." Draco said before throwing the box at Harry, whose hand flew out, catching it easily. "Nice." Draco commented, impressed at the brunette's reflexes.

Without another word, he turned and made his way out of the door, a huge grin plastered across his face as he considered the best way to trick Pansy into thinking he had blown it.

Harry looked down at the box Draco had thrown to him, a small laugh escaping his lips as he glanced back up at the doors in time to see the blonde glide through them.

As he looked back down at the box of aspirin Harry thought it was ironic that Draco's first duty as P.A was helping to relieve his back pain.

To Be Continued…


	4. First day, first mistake!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - contains swearing and some vulgarity.

As he had made his way into Aurors on the Monday after his interview, Draco had been full of confidence. He had secured a great job, and managed to develop a rapport with his boss before he had even done a minute's work, so he was pretty happy that he was already one step ahead.

That was until it was 8am and the working day begun.

He had spent the first 2 hours filling out paper work - from bank details to Confidentiality contracts - and Draco was sure that his wrist hadn't ached so much since he was 15 and he had become infatuated with one of his school mates. Wanking had nothing on a solicitor's P.A welcome pack!

He had been slightly crestfallen when he hadn't been greeted by Harry, and he had been downright pissed when it was instead The Weasel Woman herself who had had the honour.

"Good Morning, you must be Mr Malfoy." She announced, bursting into the reception area in a black power suit with the air of someone who found herself important. Draco gave her caps seeing as she probably was important.

The Toad Woman - Dolores - swiftly removed her cold gaze from Draco's face and pretended to look busy, but the blonde could see her sneaking glances at them from behind Weasel's back.

"Yes, that's right." Draco replied, standing from the scarlet chair he had perched on -careful not to crease his black chinos - and held out a hand to her. He managed to suppress the urge to squeeze her fingers until they broke.

"It's lovely to meet you. I'm Hermione Weasley, Co Partner of Aurors alongside Harry." She smiled; releasing Draco's hand and gesturing that he follow her, all the while speaking in her clear, confident voice.

"Harry sends his apologies, he is in court this morning - Something he only realised after your interview, apparently - and he won't be back in the office until sometime after lunch. Until he arrives, I have the Personal Assistant welcome pack for you to complete, and once that's done, Fleur - My P.A - will show you the ropes." She told him, arriving at her office and gesturing to the girl sat at the desk outside.

Draco was, for the first time in his life, bowled over by a woman's beauty.

Fleur was stunning - there was no other word for it - and for a few moments Draco felt himself openly staring at her. Her long blonde hair fell down her back in shiny corkscrew curls that were obviously not natural. Draco knew from the tell tale straight roots that the girl had tonged her hair herself. Pansy made the same mistake all the time - no matter how much Draco told her she should let him do it. Apparently she didn't like the idea of her ears being singed… She was such a girl sometimes.

Fleur's pale skin was almost as flawless as Draco's, however she had quite a bit of make up on. She was dressed demurely but there was something distinctly provocative about her. As Draco's eyes flickered around the office, taking in the guys whose own gazes danced toward Fleur, he realised that she belonged to the deadliest category of female - She was a tease.

Draco would bet good money that every aspect of her appearance had been meticulously chosen specifically to drive every male member of the office mad with desire.

As Draco glanced down at his own fitted shirt, red soft knit cardigan buttoned to show his defined torso and thin striped tie - clothes he had chosen for the soul purpose of catching Harry's eye - he realised that he had just met his female counterpart. He had a feeling that he and Fleur were going to get along just fine.

"Fleur, this is Draco -" Hermione announced, and the blonde woman glanced up for her computer and plastered a dazzling smile across her face. She stood fluidly and floated around her desk to greet him, which Draco found rather impressive considering the fabulous 6 inch heels she was wearing.

"Draco will be working under Harry." Hermione continued before mumbling something and walking away, leaving Draco to bite back a smile at the innuendo. He hoped he'd get to work under Harry. Oh, yeah.

Shaking away the lewd thoughts that had sprung up in his head, Draco focused back on the beautiful blonde woman who was heading toward him, and he felt himself flush as she leaned in and kissed him on both of his cheeks, his gaze dropping once again to her fabulous stilettos.

"Eet is a pleazure to meet wiz you, Draco" She purred, her accent undoubtedly French.

As Draco glanced back up at her face, he felt an odd stirring that he had never felt before. He was in love.

"The pleasure is all mine. And may I say your shoes are exquisite. If you tell me they're Jimmy Choo's I will have to envy you forever." He said with a cheeky smile, taking her hand and kissing her knuckle.

Fleur's face lit up in an unexpected way, and she cocked her head to the side, her gaze sweeping over Draco approvingly. Something seemed to register in her eyes before she smiled back in her own cheeky way. "Envy away, zey cost me more zen enough for ze pleasure." She purred.

Draco could feel the weight of dozens of glares burning a hole into his back, and he turned to face the office as a whole. It was obvious that every guy in the immediate vicinity despised him in that moment as he stood with the undivided attention of the office hottie on him.

"You know what, Fleur? I think you and I could have a lot of fun." He smiled roguishly, one of his eyebrows raised suggestively. A tinkle of laughter escaped the French woman's lips, and she seemed to agree wholeheartedly with his statement.

They settled behind her desk, and chatted for a few minutes. Draco found that Fleur was actually dating Hermione's brother-in-law, and she had only taken the job as her P.A when she realised how many pairs of shoes she could buy with her salary. She had told him that almost every guy in the office had hit on her since she had started, and even though she was technically attached, she found it fun to mess with them.

As she went over the welcome pack and details with him, Draco could tell that the woman - who he had dubbed Flirty Fleur in his head - was comfortable in his presence because she sensed no threat from him. His opening remark to her had pretty much told her that he was more interested in what she was wearing than what was underneath, and he guessed it was as obvious as wearing a neon sign.

'Hi, I'm Draco and I'm gay' was replaced by 'Hi, I'm Draco and I would love it if they made your shoes in my size.' It was a 'coming out' of the modern age.

***********

Harry practically flew down the steps leading away from the court building and dove into his car, throwing his file bag onto the passenger seat where it promptly burst open and spilled documents all over the floor.

"Shit." He cursed, climbing in and stretching over, hurriedly trying to stuff it all back in so he could get back to the office.

He had spent the morning cursing his luck that he couldn't be at Aurors, greeting and helping to settle in his new extremely attractive personal assistant. He cursed his stupidity more due to the fact he was in court every Monday morning, and the fact that he had forgotten was just plain idiotic. Hermione had been kind enough to point this fact out.

It was now just passed noon, and the plan was to get back and do what he had been dying to do all day - Say good morning to Draco. He would have to reword it to 'Good Afternoon' which didn't hold the same appeal. There was something amazingly sexy about being able to bid the blonde good morning. Ah, well. It would have to wait until the next day.

His hands paused when, upon lifting a few pieces of paper from the passenger side floor mat, he saw a picture. Snatching it up and straightening himself out, he gazed at it.

The mangled car in the photo caused his stomach to clench, and he wondered for a moment if he might throw up. He knew instantly which file it had fallen out of, even though he had yet to open it. His eyes drifted to his bag with its contents still lying haphazardly, and peeking out beneath the mess was a thin red paper folder he had been avoiding since he had acquired it. Brushing aside the stray documents, he took in the single line of text written across the front of the scarlet file.

62442.

He fingered the corner of the folder with morbid curiosity, however a thrill of uncertainty washed over him - as it always did when he contemplated reading it - and he simply stashed the photograph under the front cover before throwing the rest of the paperwork on top.

He'd waited this long to read the information inside - He could wait a little longer.

His mobile phone made him jump when it began vibrating in his pocket, and after pressing a few buttons on the car's computer screen, a ringing tone emanated from the speakers as his phone connected to the car.

"Harry Potter." He answered flatly, pulling out of his space and heading toward the car park exit. Hermione's voice came as no surprise.

"Shame on you, Harry. Tut tut." She announced, her laughter filling the small space, and Harry frowned at her remark.

"Should I know what you're talking about, or am I supposed to guess?" He answered waspishly, the image of the red file still fresh in his mind as he began weaving through the familiar streets between the court buildings and his law firm.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about! Hired yourself a little eye candy, I see." She prompted with an obvious smirk in her tone. "Tell me, Mr Potter, will you be enquiring as to whether he is a natural blonde?"

Rolling his eyes at his friend's blatant girlishness, Harry suddenly wondered if Draco was a natural blonde. "Must you be so vulgar, Hermione? And, I'll have you know that I hired him for something other than his looks. I think he could be an asset to the -"

"Notches on your bedpost? Oh, I agree." She cut across him, her laughter pounding against his eardrums causing him to wince.

"Very feminine, 'Mione. Thank you ever so much for your input. Now, if you don't have anything important to say, bugger off because I'm driving." He replied, and before she had a chance to respond, he flicked a dial on his steering wheel and disconnected the call.

He had a feeling he was going to have to defend his decision to hire Draco a lot, especially with Hermione, and he hoped and prayed that the blonde would be an instant hit to save Harry the humiliation of having to admit the fact that, yes - He had hired Draco because he was great to look at, and because Harry fancied the arse off him.

***********

"So, zat is ze copy room. Nothing amazing, but you will spend 'alf your life in zere, so get used to eet." Fleur smiled sympathetically, leading an amused Draco back to her work area.

It was almost noon, and so far Draco had 'learned the ropes'. Fleur was a lot of fun to be around, he decided, because she made the most mundane thing seem interesting. From filling out health records to tours of the filing rooms, every minute seemed to be less boring than what it should be. Draco wasn't sure whether it was her accent, or her personality, or a mixture of both, but somehow he found himself mesmerised by her.

They settled behind her desk, and upon realising that she had pretty much covered all the bases at Aurors, the French woman decided it was time to inform Draco of the different members of staff and the current gossip that was circulating around them.

The office layout was such that it made it easy for her to point people out without being overly obvious. The work area was mainly open plan, with the centre filled with 20 or so cubicles. Around the outside, along the walls, were doors leading to conference rooms and offices of more important staff members.

Harry's and Hermione's offices were next door to each other, meaning that Draco's desk would be facing Fleur's. This was something that he found comforting.

"O.K, so zat guy walking around like he 'as a stick up his be'ind is Severus. He is a complete swine. Stay away from 'im because he 'as a nasty streak in 'im." She informed, pointing out a tall pallid man with jet black lank hair. Draco could've come to the conclusion that he was no good just by looks alone.

"He is, apparently, seeing an ex client who is, let's just say, not one of the firm's most innocent." She added, a hint of scandal in her voice which amused Draco.

"Luna." She announced with a laugh as she watched the odd hippy weave through the cubicles, handing out cups of tea. "'ave you met Luna yet?" She asked with a smile.

Draco, had of course met the strange woman the day before, and laughed as he relayed the events of his first meeting with her.

"She's something else, isn't she? She definitely smokes some undesirable 'erbs, if you get me."

Draco laughed when his own musing were confirmed about the drippy office junior, who apparently was somewhat the 'court jester'.

Fleur jabbered on about others around the room, and as she got more excited she became slightly hard to understand as her accent thickened.

It was when Harry's name cropped up that Draco's attention was once again piqued, and he made a point of trying to decipher her French ramblings.

"You will simply love working for 'arry. He is a lovely man. I think zat maybe he 'as ze hots for 'ermione 'cause he is always flirting wit' 'er, but she is married. Ze are always doing weird things like blowing kisses to each other, but apparently zey 'ave always done it." She explained with a shrug, and Draco felt his spirits dampen.

So, Harry fancied The Weasel Woman. Draco had been sure that the brunette had been flirting with him during his interview. Maybe that was just Harry's way - maybe he was just a flirty person by nature.

"Speak of ze devil, an' he shall appear." She purred, and Draco's gaze flickered to the doorway in time to see Harry breeze through the office area, his thigh length fitted grey coat covering far too much of his body for Draco's liking, a strained but welcoming smile pasted across his handsome face as his eyes landed on them.

****************

My god, he looks good. Harry thought as he spied Draco sitting at Fleur's desk as he entered the office. The blonde man looked even more attractive today than he did yesterday, and Harry was sure it was due to the fact that he'd had to wait so long before finally laying his eyes on him.

From what he could see of the blonde man's clothes, Harry was instantly reminded of a school uniform which only intensified his like for the other man. Oh, yes, he'd definitely be called to the office for a detention, he thought naughtily, and banished the thought when he caught sight of Hermione standing at her office door, a smug smile on her lips as though she knew exactly what he were thinking.

He forced a smile on to his face as he glanced at the table Draco and Fleur sat at, highly conscious that his friend was watching him.

"Good afternoon, Fleur." He said with a polite bow of his head. "Good afternoon, Draco." He added, the smile turning slightly more genuine as his eyes met the other man's. They were an odd shade of blue, almost grey. But grey wasn't right either - more silver, than grey. Silver eyes. Wow.

"I trust Fleur has shown you all Aurors has to offer." Harry smiled, swinging his bag down from his shoulder and holding it in front of him to hide any evidence that he was hard from just looking into a guy's eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

Draco glanced at the blonde woman beside him, and an odd smirk slid across his face that made Harry ever so slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh, yes. She's been extraordinarily accommodating." He replied, his hand flying up and running through his silvery blonde locks. Harry shifted the bag so it was completely covering his groin area. Was everything about Draco silver and…smouldering?

"Oh, right. Fantastic. Thank you, Fleur." He smiled, and for some unknown reason he felt an unadulterated wave of animosity rise up from within him and threaten to spill out in the French woman's direction. Yeah, thanks a lot Fleur. Like you don't already have every guy here on a plate!

"Harry, might I have a word?" Hermione's voice drifted into his sub-conscious and he tore his gaze away from the blonde pair to her amused face.

"Of course, 'Mione. Absolutely." He said clearing his throat. "Excuse me." He added to Draco, and made his way passed them into Hermione's office.

He knew he was walking into the lions den, but right then he just needed to get away from Draco before he did something stupid - like ask the blonde for a quick blowjob.

Hermione closed the door with a snap and circled Harry as he sank into one of the chairs by her desk. The brunette could tell that his friend was waiting for him to crack and admit that he had hired Draco for less professional reasons, but years of the same treatment from Hermione had steeled Harry's defences. He would not break.

Hermione, whose arms were crossed at her chest, paused at Harry's side and she bent down to whisper in his ear.

"You got a boy toy, a little boy toy" She laughed in a sing song voice. "You want to kiss him, you want touch him." she continued, pressing the side of her face against his as though she were a cat. "You got a hard-on, yeah I can see it!"

"Enough!" Harry almost shrieked, pulling his coat around him as he glared at his so-called friend. Hermione guffawed as she threw herself into the chair beside him, shaking her head at Harry's embarrassment.

"Oh, relax. If it's any consolation, I don't think he noticed. He's too busy fawning over Phlegm." She sniggered, and Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione's pet name for her assistant.

He had no idea why the hell she had hired the blonde woman considering she disliked her so much. However, family loyalty was one of two things she'd had to put up with since she had married into the Weasley family. The other was the prospect of having kids that looked like Ron.

"They did look quite comfortable, didn't they?" Harry murmured distractedly, recalling how very close the pair were sitting.

"Mmm. Anyway, if you hadn't so rudely hung up on me earlier, you would know that I did have an actual reason for wanting to talk to you." Hermione chided, a stern frown on her face contradicting the amused twinkle in her eye. "Molly has ordered for you to come to The Burrow for lunch on Sunday. She said if you don't turn up she will come over here and drag you there."

Harry groaned, his head falling back in despair. Molly Weasley was renowned for being bossy and overbearing. However, she was also one of the most lovely, mothering people Harry had ever met, and she had made it her mission in life to make Harry feel part of her family. Plus, she was an amazing cook.

"Really?" He asked defeated, his head lolling to side so he could see Hermione's face. She also looked slightly deflated by the prospect of lunch at The Burrow, knowing that it was a few wasted hours that she could be working.

"Uh-huh. I could get you out of it though." She said casually, glancing at her fingernails in a very Fleur like manner, and Harry sensed a catch. "For a price." She finished. There it was.

Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled himself up out of the seat. Hermione's 'prices' always led to him paying up and then still having to do the original thing he was buying himself out of. Shaking his head he made his way over to the door.

"Like I'm going to fall for that…again." He said dryly as he paused at the door, swinging his bag over his shoulder, crossing his arms and jutting his hip out to the side.

"No, no, I seriously will be able to get you out of it. Percy is bringing his new girlfriend over, so your absence will be easily overshadowed." She said quickly, jumping up from her chair and meeting him by the door, mirroring his stance.

Harry contemplated her statement for a second. If Percy did have a new girlfriend then there was a huge chance that Hermione could pull Harry's absence off. However, he had a feeling that her 'price' was going to pretty big.

"What's the price?" He asked flatly, glaring at her over the top of his glasses, watching as her face lit up.

"Admit you want him." She smirked, knowing that she had hit the jackpot. There was no possible way that Harry would back out of answering her when it meant that he could still have a free Sunday afternoon.

Growling slightly and staring at the ceiling as though it had caused him a huge disservice, Harry returned his glare to Hermione's face. "Fine. I want to bend him over my desk and screw his brains out! Happy?!"

Laughing manically as Harry wrenched the door open and began to make his way to his office; Hermione leaned out of the door and called to him as he was passing Draco. "Ecstatically so."

Ignoring her and focusing on his door, Harry walked as briskly as he could. Just as he was about to enter the sanctuary that was his office, his friend's voice once again called out to him.

"Oh, Harry? I think I confused the dates - The lunch at Molly's was last week. My bad." She smirked, before whipping her head back inside her office as Harry's face dropped.

*******************

Draco had spent the 10 minutes since Harry had entered Hermione's office straining his hearing to see if he could catch anything that was going on inside.

Fleur had continued to point out various members of staff, however now that Harry was in the office, Draco found it impossible to care about anyone else. He nodded politely every now and then, but his attention was firmly placed on what might be happening behind Hermione's door.

Besides an outburst of laughing a few minutes after they had disappeared, Harry and Weasel Woman had yet to make any more noise, and Draco wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Flirty Fleur had said she thought Harry fancied Hermione, however the woman was married. But, Draco thought, when ever did marriage vows ever stop anyone? Maybe they were currently fornicating on her desk while he was sat outside in his best pulling cardigan talking to a gossiping French woman.

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and Harry came dashing out, his expression annoyed. Hermione soon joined him, a laugh escaping her that seemed odd in comparison to Harry's scowl.

When she spoke about some woman called Molly, Harry's face became so pale he looked as though he had seen a ghost, and both quickly disappeared into their assigned offices.

"Ah, so zat is why 'Arry wasn't at Ze Burrow for lunch. Silly 'Ermione." Fleur mumbled to herself, shaking her head at her boss' apparent forgetfulness.

"I didn't understand anything you just said." Draco laughed, wrenching his eyes away from Harry's office door and back to Fleur's stunning face.

The French woman opened her mouth to explain, but she abruptly snapped it shut when her phone began to ring. Her expression morphed into instant professionalism as she reached over and lifted the receiver to her ear, pulling out her clip on sparkly earring in the process.

"'Ermione Weasely's office." She answered smartly, and as the person on the other line replied, her eyes slid across to Draco's face. Nodding and giving a positive response, she hung up and turned to the blonde man. "'Arry would like you to go in now"

A thrill of butterflies erupted in Draco's stomach, and he gracefully stood from his chair and made his way over to Harry's door. He glanced at Fleur who nodded encouragingly, and with a deep calming breath he knocked twice on the wood.

"Come in." A disconnected voice called, and Draco swept into the room.

He just managed to stop his eyes from bugging out as he took in the interior. It was the same blue that Draco had fallen in love with when he had seen Pansy's underwear, and the light wood and bronze accents scattered around were an interior designers dream.

Harry's desk was directly opposite the door, and he stood behind it, emptying the contents of the bag he had been carrying a few moments ago. He glanced up at Draco and smiled, gesturing for him to close the door and to take a seat.

The blonde sank into the chair pointed out to him, and tried his hardest to relax as he watched the brunette's hands deftly sort through a jumble of documents.

"I'm so sorry for not being here to greet you this morning, Draco. It seems I'm destined to be late for all of our meetings." Harry laughed, pulling a red folder from his bag and carefully placing it on top of a stack of files at the corner of his desk.

Draco mimicked his laughter, and shook his head lightly. "Oh, that's fine. I understand that you're busy. Fleur was really quite helpful." He smiled, running his hand through his hair, and cursing himself for the movement. He had to stop doing that; it was going to end up resembling a bird's nest if he kept nervously touching his hair.

Harry cleared his throat and removed his coat, hanging it on a stand by his large window behind his desk. Draco was really quite envious of the jacket, and he was fighting the urge to ask where the brunette had gotten it from.

When Harry turned, an unexpected false smile was pasted across his face. Draco could tell it was false because it didn't reach his stunning green eyes. They weren't sparkling like they were back when he had bid him Good Afternoon at Fleur's work station.

"Yes, Fleur is always extremely helpful." Harry said with a slight curl of his lips, which puzzled Draco. Apparently, Harry wasn't overly keen on the French woman. Odd. "So, how do you feel so far?" He asked, his voice turning soft and the sparkle returning to his eye as he sank into his chair.

Draco felt the butterflies inside his stomach double, and he realised that telling Harry that he felt turned on by just looking at him probably wasn't a good idea. Best keep it light, wouldn't want to scare him.

"Confident. The atmosphere here is very comfortable." He smiled, his hand once again contradicting him by nervously running through his hair.

Harry's eyes followed the journey his hand made, and clearing his throat, he turned and began looking for something in one of the drawers of his desk. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's important to me that my team are happy." He said, before straightening up, and handing a piece of paper across the table.

Stretching forward, Draco accepted the document and glanced over it.

"Those are your computer access passwords - which you can change to something more personal when you get a moment. Copy and filing room key codes - Each of the codes will be unique to you, so if something goes wrong and your code was used, you will be held responsible. So, always be careful and make sure you keep them to yourself." Harry informed, his face serious as he went through the information on the document.

"You will also see a bunch of 3 digit numbers next to a list of names. They are that person's extension number. So if, for example, you needed to call Fleur, you would dial 444 and it would connect you to her. To phone out of the building you need to dial 9 before the number for external access." He finished, smiling as Draco nodded.

"Great, I will never remember any of those phone numbers, but I will do my best." The blonde laughed, and was relieved when the brunette joined in.

"I still don't know anyone's number, so I wouldn't worry too much." Harry assured, pulling himself from his chair and walking around the desk to the blonde. "Ok, let's get you settled in your work station."

****************

"Draco, would you mind grabbing 'Ermione's files from 'Arry's desk, please? Zey are usually on ze left hand corner." Fleur called across to Draco, interrupting him as he got to grips with his computer. So far he was doing O.K. It had yet to crash, anyway.

"Sure." He answered, and made his way into Harry's office.

After showing Draco his workstation and giving him a bunch of documents that needed to be typed out, Harry had gone into one of the conference rooms with an irritable looking couple and left him to it.

He felt a bit odd just walking into Harry's office when he wasn't around, but he figured if Fleur needed the files, he'd just have to suck it up and get on with it.

The red folder that Harry had placed down earlier stuck out like a sore thumb, drawing his eyes to the files beneath it. Ah-ha. Careful not to drop them, he hauled the stack of folders up and carried them through to the French woman, who was waiting with her manicured hands out by Hermione's office door.

"Merci beaucoup." She purred, relieving him of the files and floating out of sight.

Draco turned and eyed his workstation, discouraged by the stack of papers he had to type up. Rallying his enthusiasm, he sank back behind his computer and began typing away.

He was so engrossed that he didn't even notice Harry stroll past him when his meeting finished, and disappear inside his office.

He did notice, however, when Harry dashed out and peered over his computer monitor. "Draco, have you seen a red file? It was on my desk, and it's vanished." He asked, a note of hysteria in his voice.

Draco, momentarily taken off guard by the brunette's sudden appearance, felt his brain dissolve. Red file?

Harry's eyes were practically frenzied, and Draco began to panic. Oh, shit. Think, Draco, think! Suddenly it hit him.

"I gave the files to Fleur. She said Hermione needed them." He said quickly, and when Harry's face drained of colour, Draco's stomach clenched painfully. He had a distinct feeling that he had just screwed any chances of keeping his job.

"Please tell me that you didn't give them the red file?" Harry asked, panicked disbelief obviously washing over him. Draco's face must have given him the answer he didn't want, because he swiftly turned and ran to the woman's office.

Draco wasn't sure whether he should carry on typing, or get his coat.

********

Please, please, please! Harry begged to any god that might be listening as he rummaged around his desk. He'd had the file! He'd had it when he came into the office, he remembered taking it out of his bag and putting it on his desk. He'd spent half an hour staring at it before his 2pm client had arrived.

Remembering Draco outside, Harry dashed out hoping that the blonde may have put in a drawer that he had yet to check.

As he asked the blonde man if he had seen it he could see the blankness behind his silver eyes, and he felt vomit rise up into his throat. Panic slammed into him and he almost stumbled from the force of it. He had spent so many years trying to get that file and he had lost it. Lost it!

Recognition suddenly appeared on Draco's angular face, and as he announced that he had given it to Hermione, Harry wanted to scream in despair.

Dashing to her office, he prayed that she had yet to open it. He didn't even wait to ask Fleur is she was busy, before bursting into her office.

"Hermione, when Draco gave you the files from my desk, was there a red folder with them?" He asked, his eyes flickering around her office searching out a flash of scarlet.

She spun around in her chair and faced him, the expression on her face a mixture of fear and incredulity as she held up the one thing that could make the bottom of Harry's world drop out.

"You mean this?" She asked, her frightened stare centred on Harry's pale face as she held up the red folder marked 62442. "Harry, where the hell did you get this?"

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Draco's dress sense is basically Blaine Anderson's from Glee, as I love the clothing combinations he wears! Plus the dude was Harry freaking Potter, and I named my youngest son after him, ha! Thanks for reading x


	5. Need

"Harry?" Hermione's fearful voice whispered into the silent office "Harry, where the hell did you get this?"

Her wide chocolate eyes stared at Harry's face, and he felt as though he were under a laser scanner. Her gaze seemed to be begging him to produce an explanation that would qualm her concerns, and Harry scrambled for a plausible reason as to why and how he had the file in his possession.

The scarlet folder drew his attention away from Hermione's face, and he noticed with trepidation that it was quivering - or more specifically - Hermione's hand was quivering.

The woman's fear, Harry reasoned, was pretty justified. However, the knowledge of this didn't stop him from trying to brush it off.

"It's not important, Hermione. It's just a file." He said as casually as he could, his emerald eyes unable to move away from the folder. He swallowed as incredulity exploded from Hermione, the woman literally throwing herself from her seat, leaning across her desk with undisguised disbelief.

"Just a file? Are you serious?!" She spat, gripping the card so tightly it began curling at the edges, crumpling beneath her fingers.

A wave of inexplicable fear crashed over Harry as he watched the perfectly smooth folder begin to crease, and his eyes darted to the shredding machine that was beside Hermione's desk.

Vomit literally burned his throat as he realised how closely she stood to it, how very easy it would be for her to destroy the documents she held in her hand - He wouldn't even have time to blink before his entire reason for living was reduced to a pile of worthless scraps of paper.

Following his line of vision, Hermione seemed to understand the look of horror that was sure to be painted across his face, and a grim resolution marred her own expression. Coming to the same conclusion, she said as much.

"Well, if it's just a file, you won't mind if I shred it, then?!" She goaded, her tone mocking.

Suddenly her arm flew to the right and the folder hovered precariously over the shredder's blades. All she would have to do would be to lower her hand a fraction and the documents would be pulled in and obliterated.

"NO!" Harry cried, lunging forward desperately, slamming into the desk as his hand pointlessly reached for the file in her hand. He was still too far away to save it if she chose to destroy it. He noticed with alarm that several pages had begun to slip out form the file's cover, and he suppressed the urge to cry.

"Why are you so bothered, Harry? It's 'not important'" Hermione asked coldly. However, her hand pulled the scarlet folder away from the danger of the blades.

She watched as Harry's face relaxed slightly when the file was out of harms way, and she couldn't control the burst of anger that sprang up inside her. "Harry, this is insane! -" She cried, waving the document around as though it had caused her personal harm "- It's self-destructive!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He retorted. "It's just a file!" He snapped, knowing that his reaction a moment ago showed that it was clearly more than just a file to him. His eyes remained fixed on his quarry as though he were afraid she might try another sabotage attempt. "You're being melodramatic."

"Melodramatic? -" She breathed, her expression shifting to stunned disbelief. "Melodramatic? Are freaking kidding me?! You seriously think that this shouldn't cause me some concern?" She whispered frantically, brandishing the file at him as though she dearly wished it were her fist, the blur of scarlet from the gesture causing Harry's eyes to blur slightly.

"No, it shouldn't. I'm not mentally unstable." Harry growled, Hermione's reaction beginning to irritate him.

"No! Not yet! Harry, you have no idea what's in here -"

"Exactly! That's exactly why I need it - I need to know -" Harry pleaded, his tone begging Hermione to understand. How could she not comprehend how important the information inside those pages was to him?

"Harry, this needs to stop. The very fact that you have this at all shows how obsessed you've become." Hermione said, her gaze willing Harry to see reason.

Her words did the opposite, though. Harry's nostrils flared as he processed her statement, and his hands balled into fists beside him. "Obsessed? Hermione, this is the reason I became a bloody solicitor! I need this information - Surely you can understand that?"

The folder in Hermione's hands was steadily becoming more crumpled, and an irrational surge of anxiety crashed over Harry.

"You're going to damage it! Please, just put it down." He asked, imploringly.

"It's paper, for Christ sake" Hermione yelled, once again waving the file around as though to demonstrate her point, uncaring of the fact that loose pages were beginning to come away from the outside cover.

"It's my life, Hermione!" He bellowed back, a surge of anger bursting out of him.

He was distantly aware that the door behind him was open, and that most of the office could probably hear what was going on, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't believe how insensitive his friend was being.

Yes, he knew she wasn't going to be thrilled at the idea of him having the documents, after all, that was the reason he had been trying to hide it from her - She knew as well as he did that the only way he would've been able to obtain the file was from lesser legal avenues. She knew they were stolen.

"No! It's not your life, Harry! It's paper. Paper with words that you could live without reading." Hermione snapped, slamming the file onto the desk, pages careening across the surface. The photograph that Harry had seen earlier that day skidding to a halt in front of him.

His emerald eyes widened as they once again absorbed the wreckage of the small blue car, and he fought the urge to be sick again.

He abruptly squeezed his eyes closed, blocking out the image before it imprinted itself further upon his brain, and he was vaguely aware of the shaky gasp that passed through his lips.

"See! You can't even look at it." Hermione commented, her tone softening. However, a hint of a taunt lay in the undertone. "How long have you had it? How long have you been avoiding it?"

The sound of shuffling paper indicated that it was probably safe for him to open his eyes again, and as he focused on Hermione, Harry found her tucking the photograph back inside the safety of the folder.

A trickle of self-loathing began to filter through his veins as he processed Hermione's words, because he had been avoiding it - afraid of what he might find inside the pages.

He had spent so long trying to acquire the information, that now he finally had it - He had no idea what to do with it.

"Hermione, I'm not asking you to understand, because you clearly don't. However, I do ask for your support. I need that file -" He whispered earnestly, holding his hand out. His gaze fixed on her chocolate brown eyes, and he could see the determination sparkling in her gaze.

"No. You don't have a clue what you need! You need someone to tell you to stop. All I've heard from you for 14 years is Riddle, and it needs to stop. You need to get over this, Harry -"

"Get over it?" Harry suddenly bellowed, rage smashing into him so fiercely he almost stumbled as it hit. "How can you stand there and tell me to get over it?"

"Harry, stop shouting!" Hermione demanded, her gaze flickering toward the open door. "Fleur, close the door please -" She began to call out, but Harry cut her off.

"NO! Leave it open, I'm not staying." He shouted, his hand snagging the file off the desk before Hermione even realised he had moved.

"Harry!" She yelled as he turned and stormed out off her office.

He could hear the enraged woman stomping after him, her sensible shoes thudding against the carpet, but he didn't care - He had the file and that was all that mattered.

"Fleur, call Ron -" Hermione ordered as she passed the blonde woman's workstation, and Harry's nostrils flared in anger.

Whipping around - uncaring of the fact that they were now stood in the main office area and could be heard by the entire team - Harry lost his temper.

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?! Harry isn't doing as he's told - Let's call Ron!" He barked, jabbing the file accusingly in Hermione's direction. "I think you need to realise that we are no longer in school, Hermione!" He seethed.

"And I think you need to realise that stunts like this -" She whispered tartly, jabbing her own finger toward the file "- will earn you more than just a detention!"

"Oh, for Christ sake - Get over yourself and quit acting like a drama queen!" He growled in response, before turning to continue the path to his office.

"I have every right to be a drama queen considering I'll be the one to pick up the pieces when this sends you of the rails…or prison." She hissed, once again following him.

Harry spun around so quickly the enraged woman almost slammed into him. She stumbled back and surveyed the vicious glare that he was aiming at her.

Words failed him as he stared at her, and he tried again to escape to his office. His eyes landed on Draco's stunned face as he approached his workstation that was situated outside his door, and the blonde man looked as though he wanted to say something - guilt and anguish almost seemed to radiate from him.

As he drew closer to him, Draco stood, running a hand through his hair and open his mouth as though he desperately wanted to apologize.

"Don't!" Harry barked toward the blonde, holding his hand up to demonstrate the need for the other man to halt. "I'll deal with you when I'm done with her!" He added fiercely, not even pausing to witness the blonde's reaction before storming passed him and into his office, an aggravated Hermione still hot on his heels.

"Harry, I won't let this continue -" She yelled as she slammed the door shut, and Harry sucked a calming breath before he did something stupid, like punch a wall and break his hand.

***************

Draco flinched as Harry's office door slammed shut, and his wide eyes travelled from the wood to Fleur who was stood motionless at her desk opposite him, phone in hand and appearing to all the world that her batteries had run out.

Hermione's voice was positively shrieking from the room to his left and he tried his best to listen and ignore her at the same time.

During Harry's visit to Hermione's office, Fleur and Draco had stared at each other, Draco's mouth hanging open slightly as random snippets of information were bellowed from each of the solicitors. Random words like 'No', 'It's my life', and 'Get over it' floated out of the office, and Draco felt a disturbing amount of anxiety wash over him as each one had been shouted.

What the hell was so important about that red file?

"What did you do?" Fleur had mouthed, her head inclined toward Hermione's door, obviously trying to listen in. Draco felt some of the affection he had felt for the blonde woman ebb away at her remark. Thanks, like I don't feel fucking awful already!

Harry had looked furious when he had passed Draco though, and his parting comment didn't fill Draco with much hope.

I'll deal with you when I'm done with her! He had a feeling that that wasn't a promise of a quick fumble in the supply cupboard.

It was totally unfair. How was he supposed to know that he shouldn't have given the file to Fleur? It wasn't like it was hidden away somewhere and he had hunted it out - It was on top of Hermione's pile! Not exactly a place to put something you didn't want Hermione to see. Common sense, Harry!

For all of his mental reasoning though, Draco was overwhelmingly guilt ridden. His boss was arguing with the other boss because of something Draco had done, and now he was probably going to get fired.

Fleur, who had unfrozen herself from her shocked state, was now rapidly dialling a number into her phone, and using her moment of distraction, Draco sank behind his workstation, pulled his own mobile phone from his pocket and hit Pansy's number.

His fingers drummed nervously against his desk as it began to ring and he willed his friend to answer.

"Don't tell me - you've been promoted already and you just had to tell me?" Pansy laughed down the line, the sound of violins filtering through momentarily blindsiding Draco.

"Where the hell are you? It sounds like a cat is being strangled." He asked, his lip curling as the screeching sound became louder.

"I know, it's dreadful isn't it - Can someone turn this ghastly music off please, I'm trying to have a conversation here?!" She called to someone, and Draco rolled his eyes at her rudeness - Only pansy could speak to people that way and still be adored. The fact that the someone she had spoken to was now apologizing in the background was testament to that.

"Sorry, darling. You know what these wedding places are like - they think everyone who is getting married likes that tacky shit!" She said loudly, and Draco was certain that her remark was aimed at the people in what ever shop she found herself in, rather than at him.

"Pansy, I'm having a meltdown here. I haven't been promoted - I'm going to be sacked." Draco whispered furiously, glancing over the top of his workstation to find Fleur talking rapidly on the phone. Draco surmised that, unless it was another French person on the other end of the line, she was probably making absolutely no sense. He figured he had a few more minutes, and sinking back into his chair he continued.

"I've fucked up!" He murmured, his hand trailing through his hair.

"Calm down. What the fuck are you talking about? How could you have possibly done something to warrant being sacked? - You've only been there for 7 hours!" Pansy asked, her tone turning softer as she spoke.

Draco explained what had happened, and Pansy had come to the same conclusion that he had - Harry was an idiot for leaving the file out in the first place.

"If he sacks you for that then I will come down there and shove his precious file down his throat!" She promised, and Draco laughed knowing that she was more than serious. "Are you alright?" She asked, her tone changing form irritation to concern in an instant. "I hope you're not getting all self-conscious and doubtful, because I really will come and sort him out if he's -"

"Pans', relax, I'm fine." Draco cut her off, a small frown pinching at his face. He disliked that he had become a person who would be nervous and self-doubting - he despised that people knew about it, especially Pansy. Her moments of affection and concern were appreciated, but they always made him feel worse - made him feel weak. Weakness wasn't something he had been used to during his life, and he hated that it was a very big part of it now.

The door handle to Harry's office rattled as though someone had thrust their hand onto it, and Draco turned toward it, his stomach plummeting.

"Gotta go, moment of truth." Draco whispered into the phone, and before Pansy had a chance to respond he hung up and stashed his phone back inside his pocket.

Moments later Hermione breezed out of Harry's office, her face red with anger, and she promptly yanked the door closed with a sharp snap. Without even sparing Draco a glance, the irate, bushy haired woman stormed passed him and made her way toward Fleur.

"Did you call Ron?" She asked the French woman, her tone waspish. Her curly brown hair had begun to frizz at the ends, and her lips were pursed as though she were chewing an exceptionally bitter lemon.

Fleur had once again adopted her cool calm manner and nodded once to Hermione's question. "'E is on 'is way" She purred.

"Good. Can you make sure conference room C is set up for my 3:30, please? Remember Mr Fudge only drinks coffee, and for god's sake try and intercept him in reception before Dolores aggravates him - I've had enough with petulant men for one day." She ordered, shaking her bushy head with an air of a martyred woman. Draco rolled his eyes, and concentrated on his own problems.

He began typing simply for something to do, his knee bobbing up and down beneath the table in unease as he contemplated his fate. Was he going to be fired? Was Harry making him wait to prolong the agony?

Draco pressed the delete button on his keyboard when he realised he was typing his thoughts rather than the letter he was supposed to be composing, and he tried again, however the confidence he had felt at the beginning of the day was now well and truly spent.

After a few moments of attempted typing, the phone to his left began to ring and he stared at it as though it were going to explode. He glanced at Fleur's desk and found that she had disappeared, and a surge of panic shot through Draco's system.

He hadn't had to answer a phone yet.

He had completely forgotten what he was supposed to say when he answered a call, and even if he did end up saying the right thing - he didn't have a clue how to divert it.

It got to its 6th ring and then went silent, and relief washed over Draco like a cool breeze. Thank god, perhaps they'll call back later - when I'm gone.

It abruptly began ringing again, and Draco bit his lip willing the person to just give up. We're not in! He thought frantically as he once again glanced desperately at Fleur's workstation, and he whimpered slightly when he found that she still wasn't there. She'd only gone to sort out coffee - Was she grinding the beans herself?

The call cut off, again, at 6 rings, and Draco had a feeling that whoever it was calling might be getting slightly irritated - Especially when it began ringing again seconds after it had cut out.

O.K, it was now or never. He had already made a potentially fatal error, and was probably going to be fired anyway; he might as well look as though he had a clue whilst he was still there.

Reaching for the phone on its 3rd ring, summoning as much courage and confidence as he could, he lifted the receiver. "Harry Potter's office." He said, his voice sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

Silence followed his greeting, and for a moment Draco thought that his efforts had been wasted and that the other person had hung up. However a fraction of a second later, Harry's silky voice began to speak.

"Draco, could I have a word, please." He said, a sigh escaping him at the end of his request, and Draco felt a rush of both excitement and dread. Harry sounded good over the phone! His tone had a breathy quality to it, and the blonde was instantly reminded of the adverts for phone sex on late night T.V. That thought almost distracted him from the words that the other man had spoken, however the dread soon reminded him. Harry wanted a word…obviously not a good one.

Clearing his throat softy, Draco replied "Sure." He hung up and slowly turned his seat to the direction of Harry's office door, the distinct sound of the death march echoing in his ears.

Here goes nothing.

*********

Harry slumped into his seat, a frustrated sigh bursting from him as his office door closed with a snap.

Hermione had argued with him until she was blue in the face that he should destroy the Riddle file before he got himself into trouble, but he had remained steadfast and resistant - there was no way on God's green earth that Harry would destroy the file.

She had left in a huff when he had told her to go to hell, and he knew that he would pay for the argument and the expression later when Hermione would play the 'friend' card and send him on the mother of all guilt trips.

Whoever had said the phrase 'Never mix business with pleasure' had been right on the money, and at times like these Harry hated that his career was so interlaced with his personal life. As if his profession wasn't difficult enough without the added strain of trying to maintain relationships that he had spent years building, whilst attempting to create a professional work environment.

And it was as though Harry never learnt, because he had gone and hired a P.A with absolutely no experience simply because he fancied him. Could he be anymore foolish? Like he needed any extra stress!

Draco.

Oh, shit, he had left the blonde outside for almost 20 minutes after yelling at him. He was probably feeling dreadful, or…a sudden surge of unease washed over Harry as he considered the likelihood that the blonde man had just walked out and cut his loses. After all, he had nothing to lose.

Snatching up the phone and dialling Draco's extension number, Harry apprehensively waited for the blonde's smooth answer to placate his fears. However, placation didn't come as Harry's call was diverted to voicemail, and he roughly shoved the receiver back into its holster. With trepidation, he tried again, only to once more hang up when voice mail kicked in, and the unease he had felt before had now morphed into down right panic.

He tried again, and just when he was about to give up - his prayers, or more specifically his call, was answered.

"Harry Potter's office." Draco's velvety tone declared, and Harry was momentarily speechless. Wow…That tone of voice could not be considered appropriate for the office, surely?!…What the fuck was I going to say?

Shaking his head and shifting uneasily in his seat, Harry requested that Draco join him in the office and he waited for the blonde to sweep in and stun him again - only this time, Harry would have to deal with his looks as well as his voice.

The blonde politely knocked the door and entered, a slight tightness around his mouth as he closed the door and approached the desk, and a twinge of guilt twisted at Harry's stomach when he noted the anxiety he had put the other man through.

Draco's pale angular face served as too much of a distraction for Harry, who knew that he had to start trying to be professional around the blonde Adonis, so he pulled his glasses off and pretended to clean them on the end of his tie.

"Look… -" Draco's voice suddenly breathed, and Harry glanced up to see the other man's hand slide through his blurry blonde hair. Harry squinted so he could focus on the way the blonde strands fell back into place when Draco released them, and a small amount of envy bubbled away inside Harry's stomach when he thought of his own unruly mop. "- before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I shouldn't have given the files to Fleur without your permission. I realise that I've caused you a fair amount of grief, and I'm sorry."

Dumping his spectacles on the table and sighing slightly, Harry gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Take a seat, Draco." He prompted, liking the way the other man's name just seemed to roll off his tongue. He rested his chin on his fist as he watched the blonde fall gracefully into one of the navy blue seats, and he admired how Draco's posture stayed completely in place - His back completely straight, his head held high…his hands resting on top of his long, slender legs…

With a mental shake, Harry continued. "You have nothing to apologize for. No doubt, you heard a majority of mine and Hermione's…conversation, and I trust that you will not repeat anything you did hear. I'd like to say that this sort of occurrence doesn't happen often…but I'd be lying. -" He smiled humourlessly, trying to focus on Draco's reaction. He was pleased to note what could be interpreted as a smile pull at the blonde man's lips, but he reasoned that it could easily be a grimace.

"- Hermione and I are very old friends, and sometimes lines become blurred and marks are overstepped. As you can see, at times we can be quite vocal about our own opinions, however that kind of comes with the territory - we haven't quite mastered the whole 'leave the personal life at the door' rule, yet. I'm sorry, I probably should have warned you about that beforehand, but at least now you know for future reference. It certainly wasn't your fault"

Draco's face had morphed into confusion, and once again his fair hand travelled through his silvery locks.

"Hang on, do you mean…I- I still…have a job…?" Draco tried to ask, and his obvious struggle to find the right words was undeniably adorable, but at the same time it was gut-wrenching. Draco had feared for his job…because Harry was a prat.

"Of course you do." Harry breathed, and pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, he wallowed for a minute. Christ, I'm a shitty boss. It's his first day, and he thinks he's been sacked already.

The hand tugged at the beautiful hair again, and Harry finally realised what the gesture meant. At first he had thought that the other man played with his hair out of vanity, but it now struck Harry how stupid that assumption was. He considered the times he had seen Draco's hand make the journey through his fabulously silky looking hair, and he shook his head slightly at his ignorance.

He'd done it so often; during every interaction he'd had with Harry that now it was completely obvious… Of course it wasn't vanity - it was nerves. Draco was…self-conscious? WHAT?! How on earth…? Have you seen you? Harry's mind screamed at the other man, and he narrowed his eyes to observe the blonde's expression, to see if he could also detect nerves there.

He was surprised when Draco abruptly stood, and for a moment Harry wondered if the blonde man was uncomfortable with Harry's staring and had decided to leave. His surprise morphed into downright astonishment when Draco proceeded to drag his chair forward until it was almost flush against the desk and then sank back into it, his expression questioning.

"Is that better?" He murmured uncertainly, and Harry felt himself frown. Huh?

Draco's grey eyes scrutinized Harry, and reading the obvious confusion that was no doubt plastered across his face, the blonde elaborated. "You were squinting." He said as though his action had been completely obvious.

An unexpected smile pulled at the corners of Harry's mouth, and try as he might he couldn't suppress it, because - yes, it was better. Now that Draco was closer he was lot more distinguishable, and even though Harry had initially taken his glasses off so that he wouldn't be distracted by the other man's looks, he was absolutely impressed, and more than a little endeared, that the blonde had noticed his 'dilemma' and taken the steps to try and correct it. Harry get a grip, you're swooning!

The hand that Harry had been resting his chin against swiftly brushed over his mouth as though to hide the small smile that had sprung to it and he tried his best to sound normal when he answered.

"Thank you, it's much better." He tried to ignore the softness of his voice and the odd bubbly feeling in his stomach that had replaced the anger he had been feeling since Hermione's inquisition as he watched Draco incline his head slightly, his silvery eyes twinkling in the process.

"So, if you didn't call me in here to fire me…was there something else you wanted…?" Draco's smooth voice interjected and Harry clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip as he processed what could be construed as an innuendo. Something I wanted? Definitely. You'd probably sue me for sexual harassment though.

Shaking his head slightly to clear his lewd thoughts, Harry realised that he should probably get on with what he had called Draco into his office for.

"Right, of course. I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you earlier. I was afraid I might yell at you - that's why I told you I'd deal with you later. I admit I could have chosen my words a little better, but I know that if you had spoken to me I would've taken my irritation at Hermione out on you, and I absolutely didn't want to do that." He explained, his expression suitably guilty.

He didn't like that Draco's face was still slightly unclear to him, so he reached for his glasses and placed them back on, the blonde's face instantly defined as Harry's sight increased. The tightness that had been around Draco's mouth had all but disappeared, and rather than cheer Harry it made him feel awful - The other man had been worried.

A small quirk of Draco's lips though and Harry found himself smiling in return.

"I'm sure I'll live, don't worry about it." The blonde smirked, and Harry had the distinct impression that the other man was displaying a bucketful of bravado. His words may have been dismissive but in eyes - his amazingly expressive eyes - there was something there that didn't quite pair up with his words.

"Today hasn't exactly been the most wonderful first day for you, has it?" Harry asked, shaking his head at the way the day had turned out. He had thought he'd have a fabulous day at the office with a hot, new assistant to perv on - How wrong could he be. All he'd done so far was destroy said hot, new assistant's confidence. Way to go, Harry. You certainly know how to show a guy a good time!

"It's been…eventful, I'll give you that." Draco replied, shifting ever so slightly in his seat as though the sudden expectation for him to speak unnerved him. Harry found it interesting that, after all the confidence that had practically oozed from the other man before, he now seemed completely disheartened - it was almost as if he'd been expecting to mess up. His musings were backed up when Draco continued.

"I am sorry, though. I knew I shouldn't have come in here without you present." He said sombrely, his eyes leaving Harry's for the first time to trail around the interior of the room. Harry wondered if the blonde knew how expressive his eyes were and simply removed them from Harry's in order to hide how he was feeling.

"No. I should have put the file away. It was careless to have it lying around, Hermione could've walked right in and picked it up herself - it wasn't your fault. It was entirely my own." Harry sighed, leaning his elbows on the desk, his body unconsciously tilting forward toward Draco.

"Listen, in about 10 minutes a panicked red head is going to crash through the office - Just let him in, he won't take no for an answer anyway." Harry said in resignation, his fingers pressing at his temples as he contemplated Ron's impending rant. Hermione really pissed him off sometimes. She always over-reacted, and always set her irate husband on the challenge to 'Sort Harry out'. He didn't need sorting - He didn't know what he needed but it certainly wasn't any of Hermione's business either way.

A small knowing smile spread across Draco's lips, and the most delicious rumble of laughter echoed in his throat. "O.K…would you like a cup of tea?" He asked in amusement, as though he found the question funny. Harry wasn't quite sure why, although a smile did spread across his face.

"How very British. In times of crisis - drink tea." The brunette laughed, amazed at the shift in atmosphere. The awkward heavy mood seemed to dissipate as soon as Draco smiled. How odd.

"Vodka, then? We can pretend we're Russian." The blonde laughed, and Harry's eyebrows shot up as he laughed. He definitely liked the way Draco's mind worked.

"Maybe later." Harry declined with an exaggerated frown. He guessed the look was kind of spoiled by the grin that replaced it. "A milky tea would be great though. Thank you." He added, his voice turning soft.

Draco, sensing his cue to leave, stood and pulled the chair back to its original position. "You're welcome." He smiled. "Sugar?"

Harry's eyes swept over Draco's body, and he felt butterflies explode in his stomach - Draco really was something to look at. He was tall, but not in the extreme. He lacked the gangly quality that a lot of tall men seemed to be cursed with, his posture and stance completely in control. Again, Harry was struck by something distinctly feminine about the blonde man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Remembering that he had yet to answer Draco enquiry, Harry replied. "No - I'm sweet enough." He smiled cheekily, and the butterflies in his stomach danced when Draco returned it.

"That's one way of looking at it…you might just be the right amount of bitter." The blonde laughed, shrugging his shoulders playfully. "I'll keep an eye out for the red head." He added, his eyebrow quirking up, and Harry almost fainted. Sweet Jesus, that's sexy.

Clearing his throat, Harry replied. "You won't be able to miss him - He'll be the guy looking like he's about to explode." A small frown forming on his face as he contemplated Ron's arrival. Harry really wasn't going to get much work done today...and with a backlog of cases, a crisis meeting with Ron was the last thing he needed.

Draco, perhaps sensing the decline in Harry's mood, continued the playful banter. "Well, I'll make sure to keep an umbrella handy then - I hear red head stains when it goes off." He announced, his expression completely serious.

A burst of laughter erupted from Harry, and he once again felt his mood soar, as Draco backed away, a small smile of his own pulling at his lips. Hermione's earlier statement that Harry 'had no idea what he needed' echoed in his ears, and as he watched Draco slide out the door, he couldn't help but get the feeling that having the blonde around was exactly what he needed.

To Be Continued…


	6. Trial and Error

After the huge set back that was Draco's first day, things began running smoother at Aurors. He'd only crashed his computer 4 times, and he reasoned that over the course of a month - 4 times really wasn't a lot. He'd only double booked Harry's appointments once, and he had only sugared the brunette's tea twice.

He was doing fabulously as a working member of society, which was a personal achievement considering the only jobs he'd had previously were; a week as a barman at a club when he was 18 - he was fired because he kept giving Pansy free drinks. 9 days as a mobile phone salesman when he was 19 - he was fired for telling a customer to wait whilst he was road testing a new model…he was talking to Pansy on his mobile. And he had the imaginary position with Pansy's design company that they created for his C.V.

Not exactly great. So, Draco was overjoyed by the fact he had now been working for a whole month without any huge mishaps - A fact that needed to be celebrated.

The only drawback was that Harry wasn't in the office today. He'd told Draco that his diary was to remain clear for the entire day, and that he had no idea when he'd be in - if he came in at all.

So, as with every instance you'd like time to speed up - it sloooowed right down. The day was simply crawling by, and Draco cursed his luck that he hadn't skived off work like Harry was so obviously doing.

Harry.

Draco frowned as he thought the other man's name, and his teeth gnawed a little at his bottom lip. The brunette, who had been entirely easy going and quite entertaining when they had first met, had withdrawn into himself. It was odd to say the least.

Draco had never seen Harry eat, had never seen him out of the office - he was like a machine who never slept, and he was constantly distracted. More than a few times had Draco spotted the other man simply staring into space or at the demon file that had caused so much grief on his first day.

Curiosity like none Draco had ever experienced ignited every time his eyes landed on the mysterious red folder, and it was all he could do not to try and get a sneaky glimpse at what was so important about it.

Harry kind of put him off that urge though, especially after the way he had blown up at Hermione's husband - The Weasel Man - when he had been summoned by Hermione to talk with Harry.

The guy had walked in, his face almost as red as his hair, and had proceeded to barge into Harry's office. One may have suspected that someone had set of a load of fireworks, as they had begun shouting at one another…Draco would never forget the classic argument that had exploded from Harry's mouth from behind his closed door.

Apparently his friends were a little overbearing. Draco came to that conclusion when Harry had yelled at the gangly ginger man that they would probably want to hold his hand whilst he were wanking if he'd let them.

Draco had been totally turned on by the fact that Harry was talking about that kind of act, but grossed out by the fact that Harry was talking about that kind of act with the ugly Weasel Man. I'll hold your hand Harry! Fuck that, I'll hold your…

"Draco, can you 'elp me with this box please? Eet is very 'eavy" Fleur's voice floated through Draco's reverie, cutting off the direction of his thoughts.

Shaking his head at his ever increasing lewd fantasies, Draco chivalrously relieved Fleur of the box she was holding and subtly rolled his eyes when he realised how light it actually was.

"Where to, beautiful?" He asked, and she headed toward the filing room, Draco trailing behind.

Fleur, Draco had surmised, was exceptionally good at the whole damsel in distress routine. In the month he had been working at Aurors, he had yet to see her carry, fetch or deliver anything. Every single male in the office was at her absolute disposal, offering to do the most meagre of tasks for her, even going so far as to go to the Starbucks across the street to grab her whatever beverage she fancied that day.

Draco was utterly surprised to find that was also susceptible to Fleur's charms, and he often found himself doing errands for her without even realising it. The woman was completely lethal.

He watched her as she walked ahead of him, her navy blue high-waisted pencil skirt clinging to her perfectly sculptured hour glass frame, cutting off just below her knees revealing defined calves and the most fantastic pair of peep toe stilettos. Draco had to hand it to her - the woman knew how to work a good pair of heels.

Her hips swung in the most hypnotising fashion that made even Draco feel slightly aroused, and he couldn't think of anything worse than fancying a woman. He felt completely sorry for the straight males who had to watch her shimmying around all day. They must never get any work done!

"Just over there." She purred as he walked through the door she held open for him, pointing toward the second aisle in the filing room. "Are you busy? Would you like to 'elp?" She asked, fluttering her long eyelashes that simply had to be false.

Draco, who had very little to do without Harry around, smirked at the blonde woman. "Ooh, sounds like fun. There is absolutely nothing I'd like more than to do your filing." He said sarcastically, a small grin on his face as he reached for the first file at the top of the box.

"Thank you, Draco. You are most generous." Fleur replied, rolling her eyes, also reaching for a file to put away. "So, you 'ave 'it your first month mark. Are you liking eet 'ere?" She asked, resting her right shoulder against the shelves beside her, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side.

Draco shook his head slightly at her subtle attempt to get out of the job she was supposed to be doing, and he seized 2 more folders from the box and held one out for her, one of his eyebrows rising a little. Fleur tutted and pursed her lips sullenly as she took the folder from him.

"Yes, I do like it here, which is quite surprising. I thought I'd end up blowing the computer up by now, but it's still springing to life every morning and expecting me to remember how to use it." Draco laughed, handing another file to Fleur to prevent her from slacking.

The French woman apparently accepted the fact that he wasn't going to do the job by himself and began helping, albeit with a slight sulk. "I'm sure 'Arry makes it all worth while." She said slyly, her eyes trained on the shelf before her; however a smile pulled at the corner of her glossy lips. "'E is a very nice boss, not at all as demanding as 'Ermione." She added with distaste.

Draco laughed. It was true; Harry really was the ideal boss. He didn't ask for much - just the occasional cup of tea and the odd file. Hermione expected Fleur to collect her dry cleaning which Draco found plain lazy.

"Where is 'Arry today? I 'ave not seen 'im at all. Is 'e sick?" Fleur asked, concern colouring her tone. For some reason it irritated Draco that the blonde woman sounded so interested in Harry's whereabouts.

"He's O.K. I'm not sure where he is, he didn't say. He just told me that his diary had to stay clear for the whole day." Draco informed, his own curiosity prickling.

"Hmm." Fleur frowned, one of her perfectly manicured hands brushing a stray curl that had fallen against her cheek back behind her ear. Understanding sparkled in her eyes. "Eet is 'alloween today, no?" She purred, with the air of someone who already knew the answer to the question they asked.

Draco laughed at her random musings. "Oh, does Harry turn into a vampire on Halloween, then?" He asked, shaking his head causing Fleur to once again roll her eyes.

"No, silly boy. Harry doesn't like 'alloween. 'Ermione says zat eet is best not to mention eet to 'im. I think zat is why we don't celebrate eet 'ere." The blonde woman said with a shrug, and Draco frowned as he gazed at her.

Harry didn't like Halloween? What a random holiday to dislike. Yes, it was annoying having trick or treaters knocking your door and having the odd egg thrown at your house, but it wasn't so bad that it warranted being completely ignored.

"Why doesn't he like it?" Draco asked, abandoning the filing and turning to Fleur. He wondered if this was the reason Harry had been so distracted.

Fleur shrugged, the sparkling silver necklace that lay against her chest glinting as it caught the light, drawing his eyes to her bust where a mass of clear and emerald gems and hung from the chain. Draco was instantly reminded of Harry's eyes as he gazed at it, those gorgeous emerald eyes…

When the French woman cleared her throat, Draco's eyes snapped back up to her face to find her smiling in amusement and he suddenly realised how it may have looked. "I…I was just…your necklace…" He stuttered, pointing to the chain and feeling like a complete idiot. Caught staring at a woman's chest? Oh, the shame!

Fleur laughed, shaking her head at Draco's bashfulness. "Don't worry. If zere is anyone in zis office zat I would believe when zey say zat - eet is you." She chuckled, shaking her head slightly as Draco's nose wrinkled. "And, no. I don't know why 'Arry dislikes 'alloween. 'e is always grouchy, though."

"Grouchy?" Draco asked, curiosity washing over him. How strange.

"Why are you so interested?" Fleur asked with a smirk, her gaze focusing on Draco's teeth as they begun worrying his bottom lip.

"I'm not!" Draco said in a rush, his face instantly heating up, undoubtedly giving him away. "I just don't want to put my foot in it again."

Fleur stepped up to him and planted a hand on either side of his face, a disbelieving expression on her own. "Draco, I know ze look of a smitten man -" She begun with a smile, when the sound of the door opening cut her off.

Draco's eyes widened as Harry walked passed the aisle they were standing in, glancing as he passed and grinding to a halt when he spotted the pair. His confused eyes danced over Fleur and her hands resting on Draco's cheeks, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

His face screamed stress, his eyes ever so slightly red, and Draco was instantly struck by the impression that Harry had been crying. But then he reasoned that the redness could easily be put down to exhaustion. The brunette seemed a little lost for words as he gazed at the pair, and he closed his eyes briefly as though he were embarrassed.

"Sorry to interrupt… I didn't realise the two of you…" He trailed off, pulling at the knot of the forest green and silver stiped tie that hung around his neck as his eye flickered between the two blondes.

"You're back." Draco said, a smile springing to his face without his permission, and he wished that Fleur would release his face from her grip. He physically felt the woman's ego swell when he acknowledged Harry's presence and he figured that he sounded far too happy for the brunette to be back in the office.

"Yes, only just. I…erm…I was just…going to tell you that you can call it a day, Draco, but I…if you…well, it's up to you…I'll just -" He said pointing toward the exit, his eyes looking anywhere but Draco's face, before spinning around and disappearing behind the shelves and out of the door.

Draco wondered what the hell had just happened as he listened to the door swing shut. He glanced at Fleur who was frowning at him, and he shrugged his shoulders at the question in her eyes. Her hands fell from his face and rested on her hips. "Zat was weird." She stated, turning back toward the box of files. "'e looked a bit ruffled."

Draco eyes travelled from Fleur to the end of the aisle and his hand tugged at his blonde hair. "Hey, you don't think he thought you and I were…?" He asked the French woman, his finger flicking back and forth between them as he mulled over his own question.

Did Harry think he had stumbled upon them during an intimate moment? He had seemed quite perturbed by the sight of Draco closeness to Fleur…

Was Harry attracted to Fleur? That would explain why he had been so awkward. In fact, now that he thought about it, Harry spent a lot of time with his eyes on Fleur's desk, a small frown always playing around his eyes on the occasions that Draco had been sat with her. At first, Draco thought the other man was just annoyed that Draco wasn't at his own work station, but maybe the brunette was actually unhappy because Draco was sat with Fleur...

"What? In ze midst of a tryst?" Fleur interrupted his musings with a laugh, and she once again began pulling files from the box and placing them on the shelf before her.

Draco bit his lip slightly as the urge to follow Harry engulfed him. He really didn't want Harry to think that he had been doing anything other than filing with Fleur. Draco felt it was absolutely necessary to make sure the brunette knew this.

"Look, I'm going to see if he needs anything." Draco muttered, and he tried to ignore the smirk she directed at him upon his announcement. He made his way out of the room, ignoring Fleur's tinkling laugh that followed him.

Draco paced over to Harry's office, an odd sense of foreboding that he didn't understand settling over him. He was a little disappointed at the thought of Harry liking Flirty Fleur. He had been almost inclined to believe that Harry was…not quite on the straight and narrow. Figures! The decent guys were always straight!

"Hey, would you like a cup of tea?" Draco asked as he halted at Harry's open door, leaning against the frame, hoping to appear nonchalant.

Harry, who was leaning over his desk with his back to the door, spun around and faced the blonde. He had the air of trouble man, and Draco wasn't fooled by the forced smile that spread its way across his pale exhausted face.

"No, I'm good thanks." He said, his eyes skittering over Draco's face before he turned his face away, walking around his desk and shuffling at some papers on the surface, his attempt at being nonchalant igniting a flame of curiosity inside Draco.

"You don't have to stay, you're free to go." Harry murmured distractedly, his eyes looking anywhere but Draco "I'm sure you have plans seeing as it's…erm…Halloween." He shrugged stiffly.

"Look, Fleur and I aren't…we were just filing…I don't - If you're worried about inter-office relationships or anything -" Draco announced.

Although the need to get the point across that he and Fleur had a purely platonic relationship was strong, he was beginning to get the feeling that Harry's demeanour and obvious stress was down to more than just the encounter in the filing room.

Harry shook his head absent-mindedly, still keeping his eyes on the mess he had made of his desk as he shuffled papers about. "We don't forbid inter-office relationships. We just ask that you're discreet. Fleur-"

"Isn't my type." Draco blurted suddenly. "I have no designs on her…" He added quietly, worrying that he may have sounded a tad desperate as he tried to get his point across. Surely, you have realised by now, Harry! I'm gay!

Harry glanced up, his expression portraying surprised disbelief "'Perfect' isn't your type?" He mumbled, his eyes once again avoiding the blonde man.

Oh, perfect is my type!…YOU! "My idea of perfection is probably a little different from yours." Draco smiled humourlessly, his hand itching to run through his hair; however he kept it fixed at his side.

"Yeah." Harry whispered, and a small sigh escaped him as he dropped into his seat. He appeared to have given up on his' looking busy' charade and his face crumpled slightly. Draco was very aware of how vulnerable Harry looked with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed.

Turning and closing the door behind him, Draco approached Harry's desk, an odd concern for the other man washing over him. "Harry, are you O.K?" He asked gently.

"I'm fine; I've just had a bad day." Harry said forcefully, as though he were trying to convince himself more than Draco. He seemed to realise how brusque his tone was, because when he glanced up, his expression portrayed guilt. "Sorry." He muttered, running a hand over his tired face with a sigh. "So, do you have any plans tonight? I expect you're quite the social butterfly." He said with a small smile, changing the subject.

Unease swept over Draco and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. Fleur had said that it was best not to talk about Halloween with the brunette, but what was he supposed to do when Harry brought the subject up?

Draco shrugged offhandedly. "Erm, myself and the girl I live with, Pansy, are going to The Ministry. They're having a fancy dress thing." he said in a disinterested tone. He was, in fact, quite looking forward to it; however he felt the need to downplay it. His stomach clenched a little as he watched Harry's eyes dim a little.

"Ah, I expect Pansy must be stunning if she won out over Fleur." he murmured, a polite smile sliding onto his lips.

Draco reluctantly smiled. "I'll ask her fiancé…although I'm sure he'll agree. I've seen Pansy with her hair resembling a birds nest and morning breath - so, I'm inclined to say no." he said, his arms folding across his chest as he rested his thighs against the edge of Harry's desk.

The brunette heaved a short grunt of amusement; however his aura still screamed vulnerability. Draco stepped away from the desk and sank into one of the chairs behind him. He had the distinct feeling that Harry needed to talk, and although Draco was only his P.A, he felt that if he waited long enough - Harry would open up.

The brunette's head fell back against the leather chair, and his eyes slid closed tiredly. Draco's gaze rested on Harry's exposed neck, and he watched his Adam's apple slide against his throat as he swallowed agonisingly hard.

"Draco, have you ever worked really hard for something…spent so long focused on a goal…and then when you reached it - it didn't turn out how you expected?" Harry asked, and Draco was unsettled at the amount of undisguised torment in his voice. A crippling desire to say something that would bring back the sparkly Harry he had first met and make this gloomy Harry disappear washed over him, and the pressure made him speak the truth.

"Yes, I have." He whispered softly, and he shook his head before he became lost in thought of the past. He refused to think about the goal he had strived towards only to fall at the last hurdle.

Harry's eyes snapped open and his gaze centred on Draco. "How did you deal with that?" he asked softly.

"I found a new goal." Draco shrugged, his hand brushing against the hair at the base of his neck uncomfortably.

"Yeah." Harry breathed to himself, his gaze moving toward the ceiling as he sucked in a deep breath "If only it were that easy…"

Silence settled over them and Draco could tell that Harry wasn't done; he knew that the brunette had more to say. He had no idea how he knew this, but he did. After a few minutes of waiting, Draco's patience paid off.

"I met a man today…his name's Tom." Harry whispered, his focus far off as though he were seeing something that Draco couldn't. His tone was so quiet that he was barely audible, and Draco literally had to lean forward to hear him. "I always thought that when we met… it would change everything…-"

Draco's mouth went dry when he noticed the glassiness of Harry's stare, and as much as he didn't want to believe it, he was sure that Harry was trying not to cry. The door crashing open caused both men to jump, and Draco watched as Harry's vulnerability instantly disappeared behind his façade of distraction.

"You're here! I've been calling you all day." Hermione's voice exclaimed from behind Draco and the blonde felt his lip curl. Bloody woman!

He watched her pace across the office and around Harry's desk, where she proceeded to brush her hand through his hair in a mothering way. A little of the loathing Draco felt toward the bushy haired woman evaporated as he watched the tentative moment that was exchanged between the two friends. Harry even seemed to welcome the small moment of contact, and his eyes fell closed as Hermione leant down and kissed the top of his ruffled hair. "Are you O.K?" She asked softly, pulling Harry's face round so that she could peer into his eyes. "You look tired. Bad day?" She asked knowingly.

"Something like that." Harry replied with a sigh, his gaze flickering to Draco, a meaningful look passing between the two men.

Reluctantly, because Draco really wanted Harry to continue talking to him- continue the small amount of trust that he was displaying to the blonde, he stood and took his cue to leave.

"I'll leave you guys to it." He breathed, and he didn't miss how Harry relaxed ever so slightly when he realised that Draco had understood. Harry didn't want Hermione included in the conversation they had been having. Hermione, who was busy glancing at some of the papers on Harry's desk as she played with his hair affectionately, missed the comforting smile that Draco directed at Harry, which suited the blonde. The fact that Harry glanced at Hermione's apparent distraction and shyly returned it caused a flurry of butterflies to erupt inside Draco's stomach.

"I hope you have a good time…at your fancy dress thing." Harry's voice floated toward him as he approached the door, and although his tone was steady and controlled, Draco detected sincerity.

"Thank you." Draco smiled as he glanced over his shoulder "If you need anything…"

"I'll get it myself." Harry smiled the first genuine smile Draco had seen all day, and the blonde was momentarily lost in it as Harry added softly "Have fun, Draco"

**************

"He fancies Flirty Fleur, Pans. It's so obvious, you should have seen his face when he saw us together - I thought he was going to cry." Draco moaned from his perch on the kitchen counter top, the ice cold glass of Vodka and lemonade that he held in his hand calming him slightly.

Pansy, who was already pretty tipsy, was stood on the opposite side of the room, gazing at her reflection in the oven door as she aimed a can of hairspray at her wild hair, trying to achieve the look of Madonna from her 'Like a Virgin' days. Tonight's 80s themed Halloween party was going to cause the atmosphere to choke on the toxic hairstyling fumes.

"Who do you think this Tom guy is? Maybe that's why he was upset." She hiccupped. After Draco had explained the events of the day, Pansy hadn't been as intrigued as Draco had been. She was only really interested in where Fleur may have gotten her necklace from.

"I don't know, but I've got a weird feeling it has something to do with that file I told you about. It's all really odd." He murmured, chewing his lip. He had thought of nothing but Harry and his odd behaviour since he had left the office, and he was beginning to think in circles.

"Ooh, how very cryptic." Pansy said, her chocolate eyes twinkling as she sucked on her straw.

A knock at the door drew both of their gazes toward the front door, and Draco hopped down from the counter to go and answer it. "It's nice to know you're taking it seriously." he complained sullenly as he passed the sniggering 'Queen of Pop' wannabe.

Draco swung the front door open with a sulking expression, and he managed to keep a straight face when he came face to face with the 'King of Pop'.

"Billie Jean doesn't live here." Draco said dryly, as he took in Blaise, clad in Thriller style red leather jacket, trousers, white socks and glove. His expression was utterly unimpressed.

"Ha ha, excuse me whilst I vomit with hilarity." He sniped, before his eyes swept over Draco's sullen face and formal work clothes. "Eugh, who are you going as - Your father?" Blaise smirked, causing Draco to blanch.

"Funny!" The blonde said sarcastically, pulling the door wide to let Blaise pass, exchanging a manly pat on the back that was Blaise' way of displaying affection.

"Seriously, who are you going as?" He asked as they made their way into the kitchen, where he promptly headed to Pansy, cuddling her from behind and kissing the base of her neck, receiving a face full of hairspray for his troubles. "Jesus, Tracy Turnblad - enough Hairspray there?" he scolded as he stumbled backwards, rubbing his eyes.

Draco, who entered the room just in time to see Blaise being blinded, laughed and shook his head disappointedly. "You're moonwalk is terrible, Blaise."

Blaise glared at the blonde, albeit with streaming eyes, and hurried toward the sink where began rinsing the hairspray from his face.

Pansy stood behind him with her hand clamped over her mouth as she silently pissed herself with laughter, and Draco bit his lip to stop himself from joining her. She really was the cruellest fiancée.

"Draco's going as David Bowie." She announced, trying to move the focus away from Blaise and his inevitable whine fest.

Draco, sensing the same scenario, joined in the banter. "Yeah, I'm being styled after Madonna has finished destroying the O-zone layer." He laughed, which only increased when Pansy glared at him for mentioning the hairspray.

Blaise, who seemed to have salvaged his sight, dried his face and scowled at his bride to be. "Well, it's lovely to know that you were so worried about my health. Thanks a bunch for your concern." He huffed, rolling his eyes as Pansy began laughing.

"So, what's the latest on - Draco: Working girl?" Blaise asked dramatically as he raided the fridge for a bottle of beer.

Draco and Pansy exchange an amused glance, knowing that Blaise was always quick to forgive and forget, and his statement was something very typical of Blaise. He lived under the assumption that because Draco was gay he belonged to the cast of Sex and the City.

"Firstly, working girl makes me sound like a prostitute, and secondly…don't call a girl Blaise… Because I'm bad…I'm bad…you know it." Draco announced, causing Pansy to cackle and Blaise to tut.

"Oh, that's going to get old real quick." He muttered to himself.

"The job's going well…" Draco began, only to be cut off by Pansy who sidled over to his perch on the counter top, and began applying his eye make-up with a steadier hand than one might expect a lush to have.

"Hey Blaise, we think that Draco's boss is a bit of a fruit loop." She cried, her bright eyes peering into Draco's with amusement as she aimed the eyeliner pencil at his eyeball.

"No, we don't." He growled, glaring at the woman before him, fearing for his vision. One false move and he'd be blinded, and she had already displayed by spraying Blaise and laughing about it, that she took no prisoners

"He's just a bit stressed out." He added, directing his focus to Blaise who was wincing unhelpfully as her hand drew closer to Draco's face. "You know what, I think I'll do the eyeliner." he exclaimed, snatching the pencil from her hand and peering into the stainless steel kettle beside him.

Pansy, using Draco's moment of distraction to her advantage, swiped his drink and began emptying it of its contents. "Stressed out…mental - same thing." She mumbled an obvious smile in her voice.

"What do you mean 'mental'? What's he done?" Blaise' concerned voice punctured the air, and Draco paused in his actions and glanced at the other man.

"Ignore her, he hasn't done anything except be a nice guy." The blonde said exasperatedly, turning back to finish his make-up.

"Good, I would hate to have to go over there and bitch slap him." Blaise announced, and once again Draco had to stop what he was doing, only this time it was because he was laughing. Pansy, too, burst into a fit of laughter as she came to inspect Draco's handy work.

"Listen to him! What next Blaisey? Are you going to Heal the World?" She chortled, dragging her thumb across Draco's lower eye lid to remove a smudge. "Right, well, whilst the Smooth Criminal over there gets himself at it, you go and get your costume on, we have to leave soon." She sniggered, pulling Draco down from the counter.

"Yeah, get a move on Major Tom. Commencing countdown, engines on…" Blaise laughed to himself, and Pansy and Draco took a moment to bestow him with a pitying glance.

"Yeah, it's not funny when you do it." Draco said dryly before leaving the kitchen. He had to chuckle to himself when he heard Pansy's croon of 'Oh, I think you're funny even if no one else does.' The woman really knew how to boost a guy's ego.

*************

"Cheer up, for fuck sake." Blaise called into Draco's ear as they stood at the bar in The Ministry. They had been at the party for 3 hours by this point, and Pansy, who was completely wrecked, was currently gyrating on a podium nearby, wailing 'It's me' every time a Madonna song was played. It was safe to say that Draco had had enough.

"I am cheerful." He said sarcastically, ordering a round of drinks from a barman dressed like George Michael of Wham fame. Draco shuddered at the pitifully short shorts he had no doubt been forced to wear. The guy looked as though he was having as good a night as Draco was.

"Well, can you send that memo to your face because you look like someone's kicked your grandmother." Blaise complained, knocking back a shot whilst his eyes flickered toward his wasted fiancée.

Draco threw back his own measure of alcohol, his eyes sweeping from Pansy and then to Blaise, at which point the proceeded to grin toothily in obvious sarcasm.

"So, how are things really going at work? Do you like it?" Blaise sighed, shaking his head as Pansy began whooping rather loudly, shedding any shred of dignity she had left.

"It's a pretty good job actually. Harry's a great boss." Draco replied, smiling at his friend's antics. He knew it was only a matter of time before she threw up, he just hoped it didn't happen whilst she was on the podium with a crowd of people below her.

"This Harry dude, he's not like…" Blaise begun and sensing the direction of the other man's thoughts, Draco cut him off.

"He's completely different. He's a good guy…" Draco said, only to finish the statement with a frown. Yes, Harry was a good guy, but the blonde had the distinct feeling that the solicitor was involved in something that wasn't…good.

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked, picking up on Draco's unease. His friend did what he always did in a situation that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, but at the same time wanting to show that he was being at tentative.

Blaise squeezed his shoulder…hard.

Wincing a little, Draco replied. "Today was just a little odd. He wanted to tell me something but The Weasel Woman came in, and he was upset because he caught me and Flirty Fleur…"

"What do you think he wanted to tell you?" Blaise asked with an interested frown.

"I don't know, but I think it was important." The blonde said, and any other information he could have supplied was drowned out when Pansy stumbled over to them. Her hair smelling suspiciously like vomit.

"Blaise, take me home and Rock My World" She cackled, slumping against her fiancé who quickly turned his nose away from her.

"Eugh, surely you guys have run out of song references by now, and Pans - you reek." He cried, pulling her to arms length to avoid the smell of her from clinging to his hired costume.

"Are they making you want to Scream, Blaise?" Draco asked with a grin, only to receive a glare in response.

"Ha ha, Beat It! " Blaise supplied, before pulling Pansy in the direction of the unisex toilets. "Give me a hand." He said to the blonde, who reluctantly followed.

As Draco turned to follow them, he ploughed straight into a woman who smelled as though she had bathed in perfume and he wasn't quick enough to catch her before she tumbled to the ground. Feeling immensely guilty for his actions, Draco held out a hand to her, repeating a few times how sorry he was.

When the woman was on her feet, a supreme look of indignation spread across her face, her scarlet lips curling in distaste as she glared at him.

"You want to watch wear you're going, you vile little cretin." She spat, her brassy blonde hair sticking to her face as various different drinks that had been spilled from the tumble began to drip from it. "Look what you've done to my hair."

Any sympathy that Draco had felt for her was quickly replaced by outrage. "I've done you a favour, at least now it's intentionally tragic, rather than just a bottle blonde mess." He jeered, before turning from her and following Pansy and Blaise towards the toilets.

Absolute indignation crashed over him as he made his way into the pretentious attempt at controversy that was the club's unisex lavatories, and he found Blaise trying not to gag as he held Pansy's hair back whilst she vomited into the toilet bowl.

Taking pity on his friend, Draco pulled the weak stomached man out of the way and replaced him at Pansy's side, rubbing her back as he muttered about stupid bleach blondes whilst his friend emptied the contents of her stomach - Draco was so annoyed that he didn't even so much as flinch.

"Draco, I think I'm ill." Pansy wept pitifully after a stretch of dry heaves, and Draco estimated that the worst was over with and that they could probably move her now.

"Blaise, do you want to lift her out whilst I…try and not throw up." The blonde said, edging his way out of the cubicle, the smell of sick finally getting to him, and he began pushing on cubicle doors in an attempt to find an empty one.

When one eventually swung open it revealed a woman with her head hanging over the bowl, much like Pansy's had been, but Draco was very aware of how different the comparison actually was.

The rolled up £20 note that was being held to the blonde woman's nose, and the rows of white powder that lined the toilet seat made it very clear how different her activity was to Pansy's, and Draco hastily went to pull the door closed.

His eyes, however, lingered on the woman's yellowish hair, and the distinct smell of perfume invaded Draco's senses, causing Draco to sneer.

"And you called me a vile little cretin; well, I'm not the one in the gutter, am I?" He said, his tone revolted before slamming the door shut.

"Come on -" He said to Blaise who had come to stand beside him, a sleeping Pansy in his arms. "- this place has just lost its appeal."

To Be Continued…


	7. Workaholic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Talk of drugs and a medical condition in this chapter, these are themes that will continue through the story. Just wanted to warn you guys.

"Pansy? What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" Draco asked sleepily from within the depths of his duvet.

He had woken seconds before when a freezing cold foot had connected rather sharply with his calf muscle, rudely pulling him from the interesting dream he had been having. Harry and him staying late after work….very interesting!

"I'm ill, and Blaise pissed off to work leaving me to die alone." Pansy's pathetic voice issued beneath Draco's mountain of pillows.

Draco rolled his eyes in irritation. "Pans' you really need to understand the difference between being ill and being hung…-" Draco paused in his grouchy rant as Pansy's words caused a red flag to fly up in his brain.

"Did you say that Blaise has gone to work?" He asked abruptly, sitting up so fast that his head spun. "How long ago? What's the fucking time?" He snapped, dizzily falling out of his bed and frantically searching for his phone that had been in his trouser pocket the night before.

"I don't know…" Pansy mumbled, obviously drifting back off to sleep. "I'm not his secretary…you've claimed that job title."

"I'm not a secretary!" Draco spat, momentarily side tracked from his mission to find his phone. He smacked his hand down on the mattress and felt a stab of satisfaction when he received a muffled moan in return. "I'm a personal assistant! There's a massive difference." He moaned, noticing his trousers peeking out from beneath his bed and swiping them. He fished his phone out of the pocket and groaned when he found it switched off - The battery giving up on him as he constantly neglected to charge it - and he growled in frustration.

"Oh, for fuck sake! What's the fucking time?" He said loudly as he hauled himself to his feet and hurried through the flat into the kitchen. His stomach dropped when his bleary eyes focused on the digital clock on the microwave.

09:45.

"FUCK!" He yelled, his hands flying into his hair and he cringed when they connected with a glittery mass of cardboard. "Fuck!" He yelled again, turning and skidding his way back through to his bedroom. "Why the fuck did I let you spray fucking glitter in my hair? And I'm late! I'm fucking late, and I'm fucking glittery! Thank you very fucking much, Pans'" He ranted, tearing his wardrobe doors open and pulling out the first thing he saw, before thundering into the bathroom, praying to any god that would listen to make time stand still just long enough for him to be able take a shower without the risk of being fired when he eventually made it to work.

**********

"Fleur, have you seen Draco this morning? Has he phoned in sick or anything?" Harry asked tiredly as he slumped a little against his door frame, his blurry emerald gaze eyeing Draco's unoccupied workstation with curiosity. It wasn't like Draco to be late, and it was nearing 10am - surely he would've called if he wasn't coming in.

"No, 'e 'asn't come in yet. Shall I call 'im?" The blonde woman asked, and a slight bubble of satisfaction swelled inside Harry's stomach at the knowledge Fleur was as ignorant to Draco's whereabouts as Harry was.

"No, I'll give him until lunchtime…" Harry sighed wearily, closing his eyes when the room became slightly hazy, and he shook his head a little to try and clear it. "Could you…take Draco's calls?"

"I already 'ave." Fleur smiled in self satisfaction. "Dolores 'as just informed me zat your 10 o'clock is 'ere."

Harry groaned to himself and thanked Fleur, and he began to make his way over to the doors that lead to the reception area.

To say he felt rough would have been a major understatement, and Harry was eternally grateful that Hermione was in court this morning. If she were there she would've taken one look at him and sent him home, that was a complete certainty, and the last thing Harry wanted was to be sat at home brooding.

Stepping into the reception, Harry plastered a smile across his face and greeted his clients, directing them back through the office area toward his office.

His eyes strayed to Draco's deserted desk and he frowned, a small portion of concern that he didn't want to acknowledge made itself prominent, instantly making him feel a bit worse than he already felt, and he shook his head to try and dispel it.

He hoped that Draco would be in the office by the time the hour long appointment with his clients ended, but all the while a distant, vague part of his mind hoped that he'd actually get through the appointment first.

*********

Draco burst through the doors of Aurors, much like a marathon runner at the end of a 26 mile run, with a stitch tearing though his left side and he sucked in a gulp of much needed air. Christ, I'm unfit. I only ran three streets! Ignoring the Toad Woman who sneered at him as he passed her, he hastily made his way to his desk.

His hair, much to his chagrin, was still wet. He had reasoned with himself that taking an extra fifteen minutes to dry and style it probably wasn't a good idea considering he was already two and half hours late for work. So, he had left it - a decision he was now thoroughly regretting.

As soon as he walked into the office area, Fleur practically beamed from her position behind her desk. He smiled distractedly at her as he glanced at Harry's closed door, and he hoped and prayed that the other man was in court and hadn't noticed Draco's absence.

"Good afternoon, Draco. Nice of you to join us." Fleur smirked, swivelling her chair around to follow Draco as he passed her and watched as he threw his messenger bag down on his desk.

"Don't exaggerate, I already feel terrible. Is he in?" Draco asked, rearranging the mess that was his hair and pulling at the shirt that he had hurriedly thrown on. Unfortunately, the particular shirt he had blindly pulled from his wardrobe in a bid to save time was a size too small and much too clingy, even by his standards.

"'e is with ze Finnegan's. I think 'e is mad at you 'cause he kept looking at your desk an' shakin' 'is 'ead." Fleur said sympathetically, causing Draco to sigh at his astounding bad luck. Of course Harry would be in the office, of course he would be pissed!

Draco grimaced as he walked over to Harry's office door, and taking a deep calming breath he resignedly knocked the door and opened it when he heard Harry invite him in.

Draco edged into the office, his expression apologetic, and was shocked by how ill Harry looked. The man was seriously pale with black rings just visible beneath his glasses. His entire being screamed exhaustion and the blonde was certain this was the look for people right before they usually dropped down dead.

Harry, who had been witnessing a quite indecent argument between his clients, breathed a small sigh of relief when a knock came at his door and he vowed to later kiss whoever it was that had interrupted the stream of vulgar profanities that had been assaulting his eardrums. He almost fell off his chair when it was Draco that stepped through the door, and for a fraction of a second he forgot that he felt unwell - especially when his eyes lingered over Draco's chest that was more visible than usual beneath his close fitting shirt. Harry decided that whoever designed, made and produced that shirt should be knighted. Perfection, utter perfection.

A small amused smile that he couldn't quite suppress pulled at the corner of Harry's mouth when his eyes met Draco's, a look of complete remorse painted across his angular face.

Draco cleared his throat as Harry's eyes swept over him, self- consciousness slamming into him from the knowledge that he looked an utter mess. The brunette didn't look especially annoyed though, quite the contrary actually - he looked more amused…and ill.

"Can I get anyone a drink?" Draco asked politely, his eyes sweeping over the other two occupants of the room simply for an excuse to look away from Harry ghostly face.

The man and woman who were sat in front of Harry's desk both turned and shook their heads, refusing his offer, and he felt his eyes widen as he stared at the woman with incredulous disbelief. He could feel his mouth hanging open in shock, and he thanked every god there was that the woman had turned away and begun bickering with her husband, and his gaze flickered to a concerned looking Harry.

Harry eyed Draco with curiosity, slightly worried that the other man might be having an aneurism. His silver eyes were extremely wide as the switched from looking at Mrs Finnegan to him, and he seemed to be trying to communicate something to him. The blonde began gesturing wildly, pointing at Lavender and then rubbing his nose looking much like a lunatic.

Glancing at his clients who had begun arguing (again!) he felt it probably wasn't wise to leave the room, however Draco looked as though he were on the verge of having a fit.

"Would you excuse me for a moment, please?" Harry said to the bickering couple, and he shook his head when they just continued to argue, neither acknowledging that they had heard him at all.

Pulling himself into a standing position, Harry felt all the blood in his body rush to his head, and he stumbled against the desk slightly, clamping his eyes shut in the process. For a moment the world spun around him and he was almost convinced that he was going to pass out. Thankfully, after taking a deep breath, he managed to gather back some control and as he straightened up and glanced at his clients, he found that his small blunder had gone by unnoticed. Thank heavens for small mercies.

Draco, on the other hand, had definitely noticed it. The look on his face was one that Harry hated to see - concern. The blonde looked as though he dearly wanted to offer some assistance, and Harry sent him an expression that clearly said no. He did not want Draco Malfoy mothering him in the way that Hermione did. He did not want the man before him to view him as weak, absolutely not.

When they were both outside the office, Harry, pulled the door over, and though he tried to appear casual, he leaned heavily against the frame; his eyes travelling to Draco's flushed face.

"What is it, Lassie? Is someone trapped in a well?" He asked, his attempt at sounding amused coming out more exhausted than anything.

Draco, who had been quite sure that Harry was going to faint as soon as he was out of the room, was momentarily stunned by his boss' comment, and forgetting why he had called the other man out of his meeting, Draco chuckled at Harry. "Funny." He commented, crossing his arms against his chest to try and cover the tightness of his shirt. He didn't miss Harry's emerald eyes travelled down and linger on his defensive stance.

"What was with all the miming?" Harry asked wearily, taking in a deep breath as a bout of dizziness assaulted him, and he knew that his situation was becoming slightly dire. 'I definitely have to take an early lunch', he thought and his stomach dropped slightly when he remembered that his snack drawer in his desk was practically empty. Damn it!

"Who's that woman in there?" Draco asked quietly, his eyes locked on Harry's drawn face. The other man really looked as though he were going to pass out, and every instinct Draco had was telling him to get the brunette into bed, or perhaps to a doctor. A qualified one.

"Lavender Finnegan. She's the mother of Parvati, the baby from your interview." Harry answered, eyeing Draco with curiosity.

"That's Red Baby's mother?!" Draco exclaimed in an urgent whisper, looking around Harry to the sliver of office that could be seen between the door and the frame.

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he smiled at Draco's name for the baby that had been left in his charge during his interview. "Red Baby? Yes, that's Parvati's mother"

Harry suppressed the urge to laugh as Draco's expression contorted into mild disgust "Parvati?! What an awful name." He said, shaking his head in obvious incredulity.

As amusing as the encounter was, Harry really was supposed to be doing his job "Draco, do you have a point?" He asked slowly, and he swallowed when Draco's eyes strayed away from the office and connected with his own.

"Oh yeah, well I know her - that woman…she's coked to the eyeballs." Draco said solemnly, and as much as Harry tried to convince his slow working brain to process what the other man was saying, it just couldn't seem to catch up.

"Coked to the eyeballs?" He asked blankly, staring at the man before him through narrowed eyes.

"Yes. She was in The Ministry last night - I knocked her over…- she was in my way and I didn't realise her heels were so high. How was I supposed to know that she'd fall -" Draco prattled, apparently loosing himself in his tale.

"Draco!" Harry cut him off, his voice stern, prompting the blonde to get to the point.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, later when I went into the toilets I found her in there, you know -" He said and proceeded to sniff his nose pointedly, his eyes wide as though he were being completely obvious.

"No, I don't know." Harry informed, taking a deep breath when he was, once again, assaulted with a bout of dizziness.

"Well her head was over the toilet seat and she wasn't throwing up!" Draco said slowly, and Harry was struck by the impression that the other man had noticed something was off. He could practically see the cogs turning in the blonde's head "Plus, I doubt she sneezes £20 notes, and there was one definitely stuck up her nose-…Harry, are you-" He added slowly.

"I'm fine. " He said before Draco could even finish his question, and the pressing matter of Draco's allegation slammed into him like a brick. "Are you certain it was her…?" he asked the blonde forcefully.

"Absolutely. Look -" Draco replied, and all of a sudden he was flush against Harry's body, pressing him against the wooden door frame. Harry didn't even register the wood digging into his spine as he felt Draco's defined chest align with his own, and he felt an army of butterflies explode into his stomach. Good god, I'm in Heaven.

Draco, who appeared to be looking back through the crack in the door frame, seemed totally oblivious to Harry's moment of euphoria as he began commenting on the woman inside the office, and Harry, whose nose was a fraction away from Draco's wet hair held his breath when the scent of fresh, clean shampoo invaded his senses.

"Look at her, she can't sit still - I'd say she's still buzzing, which probably means she's taken more since last night..." The blonde whispered, and Harry let his eyes drift close as he felt Draco's words rumble against his chest, the vibration sending a ripple of pleasure through his body, and he swallowed down hard as he willed his body not to become too excited.

He felt air wash over his face, the smell of mint mingling with the warm breeze, and opening his eyes he found himself staring into pools of silver, and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed flecks of crystal blue scattered inside Draco's metallic irises. Holy shit, is he going to kiss me?

"Are you O.K?" Draco asked, and as though he realised how close he was standing to Harry, he took a step back, his expression apologetic. "Sorry -" he began.

"Its fine, I'm fine -" Harry said quickly, clearing his throat and glancing at Lavender who was indeed fidgeting rather incessantly. "You really think she's taken drugs?" He asked quietly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco nod solemnly, and the butterflies danced a little more when the blonde inched closer to look in the office again. The scent of shampoo and aftershave assaulted Harry's senses once again, and he reasoned that in this instance he had an excuse for being light headed. Draco smelled amazing.

"Definitely. " The blonde whispered, gazing at Lavender with a disgusted expression. Harry figured that it was only due to his distraction that Draco continued. "Even if I hadn't seen her snorting it, I'd be able to tell…I'd know. You learn to read the signs when -" Abruptly Draco turned and gazed at Harry, his preoccupied mumblings instantly halting as though he had just realised he were still speaking, and he seemed to flounder for a moment.

Harry's eyes probed the blonde man's face, his entire being screaming at Draco to continue, to actually give him a tiny insight into his life, his past "Go on." He said gently.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter." Draco replied, his expression angry, and he took a rigid step away from Harry "That woman's on drugs, Harry, and she's after custody of Red Baby. I believe that's your cue to make sure that doesn't happen." He said, his tone harsh, and Harry was momentarily taken aback. He had never heard Draco speak in such a haughty manner, and for a fraction of a second he could see the Draco that he knew be replaced by something alarmingly aristocratic. The command in his voice seemed entirely out of place for a P.A to be directing at his boss, and Harry was instantly overcome with desire. He liked affirmative Draco!

"Right." Harry whispered, shaking his head when his eyes blurred a little. "Thank you, Draco." he added, and he watched as the blonde sighed, shedding the odd façade that had settled over him.

"Harry, are you O.K? You look -" He began, his eyes narrowed, and Harry once again cut him off.

"I'm fine." The brunette said sharply, and instantly regretted snapping when he watched Draco's eyes widen a little. "Look, it's nothing a cup of tea won't sort out…three sugars." He smiled weakly, before slipping into the office and closing the door before Draco could become too suspicious.

Little did he know that his parting request was enough to confirm Draco's fears that something was out of place.

'Three sugars? What happened to being "sweet enough"?'

******

"Is Harry busy?" Hermione's voice floated through Draco's consciousness, pulling him from a rather nice daydream concerning Harry and a particular couch in the staff lounge that was most definitely comfortable enough to…make themselves comfortable on…! Trust Hermione to ruin it with her ever impeccable timing!

"He's just finishing up." Draco replied, focusing his attention on the bushy haired woman before him. He could tell instantly that she was in a bad mood by the condition of her hair. Curls generally equalled a cool, calm Hermione. Frizz equalled The Woman Possessed. Frizz meant she was going to piss Harry off.

"Good. Draco, may I ask you something?" She asked, throwing Draco by her abrupt change in tone. She had gone from bossy to polite in one sentence, and Draco had a bad feeling he wasn't going to like the question she was about to ask. Without waiting for his response, Hermione continued. "Could you keep an eye on Harry for me? I mean to say, he never tells me anything for fear of being coddled, and I am genuinely worried about him. I was hoping, perhaps, that you might let me know if you think there is anything…untoward…"

Draco watched the woman before him carefully. He had the distinct feeling that she was asking him to engage in espionage, and he didn't like it at all. Hermione Weasley was the last person he would wish to commit such an act for - He couldn't stand the woman. Besides, she and Harry were supposed to be good friends. Surely, if Harry wanted her to know anything then he would tell her himself.

The frizzy haired woman's eyes seemed to be boring into him like laser scanners, and he was feeling more and more compelled to tell her to go to hell. Fortunately for Draco, Harry chose that moment to open his office door, and the furious brassy blonde Lavender stormed through the office area towards the exit causing the most absolute distraction.

Harry stood in his doorway, shaking hands with an extremely relieved man that Draco took to be Mr Finnegan. The man spoke with a distinct Irish accent as he thanked Harry, and he seemed to almost float after his wife, an air of absolute joy spilling out around him.

Harry's eyes travelled from the Irish man to Draco, and when his emerald orbs connected with the blonde's, a tired but grateful smile spread across his drawn face. He didn't even seem to notice Hermione.

"Thank you. You were right. Seamus wants Lavender to be tested, she was furious -" Harry said quietly, leaning against the door frame.

Hermione, whose hair was growing wilder the longer she was being ignored, suddenly made her presence known. "Hello, Harry." She said, crossing her arms against her chest.

Harry finally seemed to realise his friend was also stood at Draco's desk, and a puzzled expression crossed his face, causing Draco to frown to himself. Surely Harry hadn't actually missed Hermione standing directly in front of him?!

"Hermione-" The brunette acknowledged, a small crease of confusion appearing between his eyebrows. "I didn't see you there. Everything O.K?" He asked, obviously trying hard to appear normal. However, there was something very abnormal about Harry's behaviour, and Draco couldn't put his finger on it. One glance at Hermione's face told him that she was thinking the same thing.

"You tell me." She said slowly, her arms falling to her sides as she gazed intently at Harry's face. Draco couldn't help but also scrutinize the brunette's face, and what he found was worrying even to him. Harry looked as though he were dying.

Harry tried to give off an air of casualness, but he was failing miserably. "Nothing to tell." He whispered.

Hermione seemed to stare at him for a fraction of a second before she started barking orders. Her gazed switched instantly from Harry to Fleur, who was sat looking rather bored at her desk. "Fleur, can you please get the jar of honey that is in the staff lounge and a tablespoon, then go to the vending machine and fetch me a salad sandwich. Draco! Can you please help Harry to his desk? Thank you." She ordered. Harry, who was obviously about to protest was instantly cut off as Hermione rushed passed him into his office. "Don't you even complain Harry James Potter, or so help me god I will castrate you."

Draco jumped up from his chair as soon as his direction had been given, and he apologetically drew up to Harry. "Do you really need my help?" the blonde asked, feeling more than a little sympathetic to his boss.

Harry sighed, his eyelids dropping a little, and shook his head. "She over reacts." He breathed before turning and drifting into his office.

Draco was more than a little disconcerted by how wet the back of Harry's shirt was, especially considering it was the beginning of November and even with the heating on it was freezing. Following Harry into the room, Draco watched the other man sink wearily into his chair, as Hermione rummaged about in his desk drawers.

"When did you eat last?" She demanded quietly, and obviously finding what she was looking for, she sat on the edge of Harry's desk and began fumbling with something.

"This morning." Harry whispered, his head falling back against his chair.

"Harry, what's the point in lying? You're practically hypoglycaemic, I know you're lying." Hermione's voice whipped out, absolute fury in her tone.

The puzzle pieces instantly fell into place for Draco, and as Harry's tired eyes slowly opened and focused on him, the blonde finally understood. A look of complete devastation appeared on the brunette's ghostly pale face, and Draco found himself unable to keep eye contact. Looking away toward Hermione who was now busy with Harry's hand, Draco spoke. "Harry's diabetic?" He asked, as he watched the woman.

He heard a click, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry flinch slightly as Hermione punctured his finger in order to test his blood. Harry was diabetic?! How had Draco not been told about this? How had he not noticed?

"Yes, Harry's diabetic. And he finds it absolutely necessary to make life as difficult as possible for himself." Hermione snapped, fiddling with the buttons of a device in her hand.

Harry, as exhausted as he was, seemed to be completely aggravated with the treatment he was receiving. "I'm still here…don't talk about me as though…I'm not!" He slurred slightly, his breathing laboured as he struggled to gather some composure. His focus appeared to lie solely on Draco as he spoke. "I expect it from her…" He said "Not you, too."

It was as though Harry were pleading with Draco to fight his corner, as though he were afraid that Draco's knowledge of his condition would turn him into another Hermione-like control freak.

Was this why Harry had kept it from him? Was the brunette afraid that Draco would treat him differently, mother him the way his friends did? Was his diabetes the reason Hermione and her husband kept Harry on such a tight leash?

So many questions spun around Draco's head, that he was only vaguely aware when Fleur entered the room her arms filled with Hermione's shopping list.

"Thank you Fleur, you can go back to your desk." Hermione ordered as she gathered up the honey and spoon that the French woman had placed on the desk. Fleur rolled her eyes at Draco as she passed him, and he wondered why he hadn't been told to leave too. His eyes flickered back and forth between Harry and Hermione, watching every move they made. Waiting.

"You don't have to stay." Harry whispered gently, and Draco's eyes met his for a moment. The statement seemed significant, but he wasn't sure why. He had the distinct impression that Harry wasn't just giving him permission to leave the room. It was like the brunette was letting him know that it was O.K to walk away.

Did Draco want to walk away from Harry? Absolutely not. So what if the brunette fancied Fleur? So what if he was diabetic? So what?!

"I'm good." Draco breathed, a small amount of anxiety washing over him as he saw Hermione rummaging around in Harry's desk drawers again, however he suppressed it as he smiled gently at Harry, who tried his best to return it.

The interaction was swiftly cut off as Hermione jammed a spoonful of honey in Harry's mouth, and Draco winced as the brunette gagged on the spoon.

"Swallow it, Harry. Your sugar level is alarmingly low." Hermione declared, and the amount of concern in her tone caused Draco to worry slightly. He knew that the woman before him had a tendency to over react when it came to Harry; however he also knew how serious sugar levels were to diabetics.

The bushy haired woman began stuffing her hands in Harry's trouser pockets, and Draco felt his eyes widen. Surely, a married woman shouldn't be so close to a man, who most definitely was not her husband, and his…intimate area. The fact that Harry's eyes flew open at about the same time Draco's did showed that he was thinking the exact same thing.

"Personal space, 'Mione." He yelped, only to receive a withering glare in return. She had pulled something from Harry's pocket and seemed to be studying what looked like a pager. She frowned to herself and then at Harry.

"Well, your pump is fine. And you say you've eaten…why are you practically comatose?" Hermione asked with an air of someone who believed they were holding the moral high ground. Harry gently shook his head, his eyes sliding open and focusing on Draco. The blonde was pleased to note that the honey was at least keeping Harry from passing out, however he still looked desperately ill.

"You look like you're going to throw up." Harry noted with a small smile, completely ignoring Hermione's huffing. Draco's hand flew up into his hair and he felt it was probably necessary to make a point clear.

"I have an aversion to…needles." He whispered, clearing his throat as his eyes found a spot on Harry's desk absolutely fascinating. "Will you be using any…?" He felt his face heat up as both Hermione and Harry's gazes fixed onto him, and he dearly wished he had kept his mouth shut.

Harry, even though he felt completely wretched and quite close to throwing up himself, couldn't help but feel a rush of sympathy for Draco. The blonde looked truly embarrassed as he refused to make eye contact, and the small blush that had appeared on his pale face was really quite adorable.

"You don't have to worry about needles, Draco. I'm not particularly keen on them either. I think I drew the short straw." Harry smiled, awareness beginning to seep back into him, the confused fog that had drifted over dissipating slowly. "I have an insulin pump." He announced, pointing to the device in Hermione's hands, and sensing a chance to teach something, she held it up to show him.

"Harry has type 1 diabetes - he's insulin dependant. His pancreas doesn't-"

"I know what diabetes is." Draco announced cutting her off mid-sentence. The scowl that sprang to the frizzy haired woman's face was quickly replaced by smugness.

"Well, the pump is already attached to his skin and it gives him doses of insulin throughout the day, and if he needs more he just has to press a button rather than inject." Hermione explained, holding up a thin line of tubing that was attached to the pump. Draco tried not to think about which part of Harry's body that the line connected with.

"Well, now that you know, Harry will have an extra pair of eyes on him." Hermione declared, puncturing Harry's finger again and testing the drop of blood it produced in another device. "I should probably show you what to do if Harry becomes so bad that he needs a glucagon shot."

Draco felt his blush drain from his face, and Harry's head snapped in Hermione's direction as he processed her remark. "You'll do no such thing! You just heard him say that he doesn't like needles, we'll respect that, thank you very much."

Hermione seemed as though she were going to argue, but a glare from Harry stopped her in her tracks. Shaking her head, she twisted on the edge of the desk and swiped the sandwich that Fleur had deposited and shoved it at Harry. "Your levels are rising, eat this and I'll check again once you're done." She ordered, ignoring Harry's protests that he was feeling well enough to test his own levels, and she slid off the desk, beckoning Draco toward Harry's side of the desk.

Draco felt his stomach turn as he made his way forward. He knew that if she showed him a needle he'd likely pass out, and for some reason he got the impression that Hermione would get some sadistic sort of pleasure from that.

"This is Harry's 'snack' drawer. It's usually filled with a bunch of diabetic friendly food, however because you were unaware of his condition his supplies are depleted." She said indicating the deep bottom drawer of the desk. Harry seemed to be chewing on his bottom lip with irritation, and he looked up and shook his head at Draco as though telling him to ignore her.

"This drawer-" She announced, pulling open the one above the snack drawer "-is where the blood monitor is kept, the emergency glucagon shots, and usually a bunch of glucose tablets. There is also a spare infusion set for the insulin pump and a spare insulin pen in case his pump was to fail. The insulin is kept in the drawer at the bottom of the fridge in the staff lounge."

Draco nodded, keeping is eyes firmly away from the ominous looking box that most definitely contained a syringe, and mentally noted to get Harry's snack drawer filled as soon as possible.

"Are you quite done? Or would you like me to call a nurse in so she can come and train him?" Harry sniped at Hermione's back, self-consciously chewing his sandwich behind his hand.

Hermione rolled her eyes without turning around, and shook her head wearily. Draco suppressed the urge to sneer at her. Anyone would think it was her that had the condition, not Harry. "Are you clear on everything so far? I know it's daunting, but the more people that know, the less likely this sort of situation will happen. I have a bunch of information on diabetes in my office if you'd like to -" She asked, only to be cut off by Harry.

"Hermione, enough. Give the guy a break." He ordered. He was growing more tired of her as the seconds wore on, and he could tell that Draco was feeling out of his depth. His expression was enough to tell anyone that, he looked as though he wanted to be sick.

Draco glanced at Harry and then to Hermione, and when he spoke he surprised Harry by how controlled his voice was. "I'm clear on everything. I'll have the drawer filled by the end of the day, and I'll make sure the glucose tablets are replaced."

Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up, and he was sure Hermione's expression mirrored his own. Draco, although obviously afraid of needles, seemed quite at ease with the entire situation, and Harry felt a bubble of unwelcome hope appear in his stomach. Draco really was like a book that, with the more time Harry spent reading, the more he uncovered about his character.

"Right, good." Hermione breathed, a small frown on her face. "Harry, of course, won't be here this afternoon. He's going home, can you make sure that his appointments are distributed by Fleur." she ordered, before turning to cut off Harry's protests. "Go home. Draco, take him home please. Make sure he stays there, and that he takes no work with him-" She said with a stern glance at Draco, whose eyes widened slightly. Take Harry home? Done, and done!

"Hermione, my levels are rising, I have no need to go home." Harry protested, scowling at his friend. How dare she order Draco to take him home! What if he didn't want Draco at his place…well, he did, but it should be his decision. He hadn't even made his bed this morning. Wonderful!

"And make sure he eats, because he obviously didn't eat this morning." The bushy haired woman continued, completely ignoring Harry.

"Erm…Harry?" Draco asked gently, watching as Harry's face became a shade brighter than it had been before. "What…?" He wasn't sure whether he should follow Hermione's instructions or not, he had a feeling that Harry wouldn't leave without a fight.

With an exasperated sigh, Harry stabbed his finger with his puncture pen and pressed the droplets of blood against a small tab before thrusting into its testing device. He looked thoroughly annoyed by being told what to do, and seemed to be trying to ignore the other two that were in the room. A small beeping noise sounded, and Harry unconsciously pressed a button on the pager like pump that was now sitting on the desk beside his sandwich. It was obviously a motion he had carried out a hundred times before, and Draco was struck by the simplicity of the gesture.

That one press of a button had just saved Harry's life. O.K, maybe that was stretching it a little, Draco thought. But it was kind of true. If Harry hadn't just reached across and pressed the button, releasing a chemical that he depended on, then he could possibly, if left long enough, die.

Draco couldn't help but watch in awe. Yes, he knew about diabetes, had read up on it, knew the theory of it, but seeing it in action was more than a little daunting. He wondered how Harry had managed to keep it such a secret from him.

"You'd better do as she says, she'll only send in the cavalry and I really can't be doing with Ron at the moment." Harry groaned, sending a smug Hermione the dirtiest of looks. "I'll meet you by my car once Hermione has stopped giving me the third degree, so I'll be about 10 minutes." He added, shoving his pump in his pocket and pushing his chair back, causing Hermione to have to jump out of the way or be crushed against the window behind Harry's seat.

With a small smile that he was sure only Draco could see, Harry slowly stood as though testing his balance. "Well, look at that, I can walk - it must be a miracle." He said, rolling his eyes, and smiling slightly wider when Draco pressed his lips together to stop from laughing.

"Hallelujah" The blonde quipped and Harry couldn't help the laugh that burst from him as he processed Draco's remark. "I'll make sure Fleur knows what's going on." Draco added, backing out of the office.

"Let her know that she's working for a regular little Florence Nightingale. Hermione's next mission is world peace; she's very excited about it." Harry smirked, ignoring the glare that was being directed at him from a bushy haired Hermione.

"I will do." Draco laughed, and left Harry to an irate looking Hermione.

In 10 minutes he'd be taking Harry home…the day was certainly looking up.

To Be Continued…


	8. Someone like me

Harry lopped into the reception, his bag, that was stuffed with as much paperwork as he could smuggle beneath Hermione's radar, hanging from his slumped shoulder, with his thin charcoal coat hanging over the top in an attempt to hide the bulging bag.

Draco, who was perched on one of the scarlet stuffed armchairs, stood as Harry approached him, and the brunette noted with a sense of disappointment that the blonde's delectable chest was now being hidden beneath his own black fitted, thigh length winter coat. His messenger bag strap sat snugly across his torso leaving Draco's hands free.

Harry realised why the blonde had left his hands free when he reached across and plucked Harry's heavy satchel from his shoulder and, with a suspicious expression at the weight, placed it on his own.

"I figured I might as well make myself useful." Draco smiled, a small blush colouring his cheeks as though he hadn't actually meant to be helpful at all. Harry was struck by the distinct impression that Draco actions had been entirely unconscious, the blush on his face confirming his theory.

"That was the longest 10 minutes in history." Draco commented, adjusting the strap to Harry's bag. The brunette felt a rush of guilt knowing how heavy the bag actually was, and he reasoned that perhaps he had put a few too many files inside. "Technically, it was 25 minutes, but what's quarter of an hour between…Well, you know." The blonde trailed off, looking more embarrassed than he had been a moment before.

Harry watched the other man with a small amused smile, his mind finish the sentence that Draco had been unwilling to complete. So, Draco thought of Harry as a friend? The smile widened as Harry realised how comfortably that thought sat with him. Friends. Harry and his friend, Draco.

The blonde cleared his throat, one of his eyebrows rising questioningly, and Harry realised he was probably grinning like a complete prat.

"Right, sorry." He breathed, his eyes travelling around the empty reception simply to keep from staring at Draco's face. "Hermione decided to give me the extended version of the 'Harry is an idiot' song. She added a bridge of 'When will you learn?', followed by a chorus of 'You're impossible, why can't you just do as you're told?' Safe to say I gave her my own version of 'Hermione, piss off.'"

Draco's laugh at Harry's remark sent the most delicious thrill of excitement through the brunette's body, and he shivered a little. It was the most pleasant sound Harry had ever heard, and he found himself trying to think of more witty things to say so he could hear it again.

"Hey, you're shivering." Draco said suddenly, and before he knew it, Harry was having his coat thrust upon him. "You'll need it anyway, it's starting to rain." the blonde commented, apparently trying to make it clear that he was being practical rather than concerned.

"Ah, that's why you're in here." Harry said, pulling his coat on and cringing when he felt his cold wet shirt stick to his back. He dearly hoped that Draco had not noticed that particular part of his humiliation. It was bad enough that the other man knew his body didn't work right; he didn't want him knowing that he had sweat stains too.

Draco's eyes narrowed for a moment in confusion before he realised what Harry was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I have no idea which car is yours." He said with a one armed shrug.

Harry stared at him for a fraction of a second before closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly. "Right. Of course you don't know which car is mine. Sorry, I just assumed you…never mind." Harry mumbled, feeling like a complete moron. He wasn't actually in the car when you were screwing him in your daydreams, you fool! 

Feeling his face begin to heat up, Harry started to make his way toward the exit, careful to keep his face well out of Draco's line of sight. He could hear the blonde's even, casual strides behind him, and as the doors opened they were showered with droplets of rain as the wind blew it inside the reception.

Harry bowed his head as he turned left and made his way towards his parking space. He could hear a string of mumbled complaints spilling from Draco's mouth from beside him, and he suppressed the urge to laugh.

"A Nimbus soft top? Very nice." The blonde commented, as they drew up to the car, Harry opening the boot in the process. Draco placed the mammoth file bag inside, and turned to get into the passenger seat.

"Erm…Draco?" Harry said suddenly, his shoulders hunching as the rain began to fall harder. Draco turned; his hands flying up to pull the collar of his coat up to try and shield his clothes from the rain. "Do you know how to drive?"

Draco's delicate blonde eyebrows shot up, and seemingly thrown by Harry's question, he frowned in a puzzled way. "Yes?" He said, his answer sounding more like a question.

Pulling his keys from his pocket, Harry approached the now rather wet blonde man, and held up the car key. "I won't drive when my levels are low. I'm not overly keen on being a passenger, but-"

"Right, of course. Yes, I'll drive." Draco replied, his silvery eyes probing Harry's face. The brunette was more than a little nervous about letting Draco behind the wheel, but he tried to keep that out of his expression.

"O.K." Harry said with as much confidence as possible. With a casual flick of his wrist, Harry pressed a button on the key causing the locks on the doors to click open, and with a small smile he handed it to Draco.

Feeling completely backwards, Harry slid onto the passenger seat and watched as Draco's blurry form passed the soaking windscreen. Harry, whose nerves were beginning to jingle, jumped slightly when the driver side door opened, and even though he was more than comfortable in Draco's presence, he couldn't shake the fear of handing over this much trust to him. He was absolutely serious when he had said he didn't like to be a passenger.

The blonde seemed to sense Harry's discomfort, and he did something that would usually make Harry even more nervous, however in this case it didn't bother his as much. Draco talked.

"So, a Nimbus? The pretty boy car? For some reason, you don't strike me as the kind of guy to drive a Nimbus." Draco commented as he adjusted the seat and rear view mirror. His lip curled when his eyes connected with the mirror, and Harry smiled slightly when the blonde discreetly tried to adjust his hair that was in slight disarray.

"Yeah, I reasoned that, if I had to work with Hermione every day, I should at least have a nice car. That way I have a pro as well as a con." Harry mumbled, distractedly tugging at the seatbelt that he had fastened as soon as he was seated to test if it worked properly. "Why wouldn't I drive a Nimbus?" He asked, turning his gaze to the side of Draco's head. He figured that, perhaps, if he looked at the blonde whilst he was driving it might take his mind of the fact that…Draco was driving!

The blonde smiled to himself as he started the engine, his eyes firmly focused ahead as he pulled the car out of it's space and headed for the exit. This pleased Harry, who was steadily gripping the edges of his seat. "You seem to like the simple things in life. I just wasn't expecting you to own a sports car." He laughed lightly.

"Oh, right." Harry breathed, Draco's answer throwing him a little.

"Where am I going?" Draco asked, bringing the car to a stop at the exit, and turning to look at Harry with a small amused smile.

"Oh, right. Erm…yeah, Hogsmeade. Here…" Harry said again, feeling as though he had left his coherency outside when he had gotten in the car. Reaching across and plucking the Satellite Navigation unit from its perch, Harry brought up his home address and positioned it so Draco could clearly see the directions as they were given.

"Why did you choose the non-motorway route? Surely, that would be quicker." He asked as he pulled the car out of the car park and on to the road, his tone confused.

Harry, who had gone back to concentrating on Draco, watched as droplets of water fell from his silvery hair and ran down his pale neck, disappearing beneath his collar, and he found himself desperately wanting to lean across and trace the trail with his tongue. Shivering slightly as the thought took hold of him, he answered, his voice a little firmer than he meant as he tried to shake his lewd thoughts away "I don't like the motorway."

Draco stared out of the windscreen, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't usually as vigilant when it came to driving, but Harry was giving off some serious distress signals and Draco couldn't help but feel slightly uptight himself.

He really, really wished that the brunette would stop staring at him. He could feel Harry's emerald eyes boring into the side of his face, and he found himself using all of his will power to stop from turning and looking into them. However, Draco had a feeling that as soon as his eyes left the road, Harry might have a panic attack, so, he decided that it was probably for the best that he remain completely focused on the road ahead.

He was curious as hell as to why Harry didn't like motorways. After all, it was such a random thing to dislike. Unless…

Draco glanced out of the corner of his eye at the other man - who looked for all the world like he was dying of fright - and realised that Harry must have had a bad car experience somewhere along the line.

He noticed with a small frown that Harry was still shivering somewhat, and reached across to switch on the heaters. As they began blasting welcoming warm air on the two of them, Draco was hit full in the face by Harry's scent, and it was all he could do not to moan with absolute desire. The brunette's rich, spicy aroma filled the small space instantly, and he felt his mouth water just as quickly.

Harry, who seemed completely oblivious to this, chose this moment to ask Draco a question, and the blonde cursed his luck that his answering voice would be slightly higher than that of the average adolescent going through puberty.

"What about your car? How will you get it?" The brunette asked, apparently just realising that Draco would somehow have to make his way back home eventually.

"Oh, I don't have one." Draco replied in his squeaky voice, shifting awkwardly with embarrassment. "I like to walk." he added simply.

He felt Harry's incredulous gaze bore into the side of his head. It was so intense that Draco was sure he'd have scorch marks where the brunette's emerald eyes were fixed. "You don't have a car?"

Draco, quite unintentionally, bristled at Harry's remark. He didn't appreciate the absolute shock and disbelief in the other man's tone. That's right, I don't have a car." He murmured.

Apparently, Harry didn't sense the warning in Draco's tone because he continued. "Don't tell me! You have a chauffer named Jeeves who drives you round in a Cleansweep." he laughed.

Draco swallowed convulsively, his stomach churning as he pulled up at a red light and the car came to a halt. He didn't like this route of questioning. So far, since he had started at Aurors, he had managed to avoid any conversations that could be considered personal. Although, he and Harry had never found themselves in a situation where they were alone together without a desk or a pile of files between them.

"His name is Dobbs, actually. And it's not a Cleansweep; it's a vintage Ford Anglia." He mumbled, staring at the traffic lights in front of him to avoid looking Harry in the eye. He felt, rather than saw, the brunette's amazement at his statement.

"Jesus! Spoilt much?" Harry laughed in astonishment, causing Draco to grip the steering wheel so tightly the sound of his knuckles cracking filled the air.

A frostiness that he didn't even want to begin to explain rolled off Draco, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The cars behind them were now beginning to toot their horns when the light changed to green and yet Draco didn't drive. Instead, he turned and looked at Harry, probing his expression for any signs of spite or malice.

"I can't help it that my parents have money, Harry." He said harshly, a distinct defensiveness to his tone that caused Harry's eyebrows to rise behind his glasses. Scolding himself, Draco focused back the on car and promptly pulled away from the traffic lights.

The rest of the journey passed in an unpleasant silence. After Draco had once again displayed his haughty, defensive side, Harry found that he could no longer stare at the blonde's face, instead gazing at his pale hands that clutched at the steering wheel. He was more than a little unsettled that an, obviously, angry man was currently in control of the vehicle, and Harry found himself digging his nails into the leather edge of his seat, and he tried his best not to freak out.

He was more unsettled at the fact that he was the one who had angered the blonde beside him, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd done it.

He figured that calling Draco spoiled was a little out of line, but to receive the reaction he had received was completely unexpected, and Harry floundered as he tried to think of a way to fix it.

Draco was overwhelmingly relieved when the satellite navigation declared that they had reached their destination, and pulling into the first space he could find in the underground car park at the base of a flashy looking apartment complex, he promptly climbed out and escaped the claustrophobic atmosphere that had enveloped the car since he had snapped at Harry.

The brunette vacated the car a little more slowly, apparently trying to avoid the moment when they would need to speak to one another again, and Draco busied himself by fetching their things from the boot.

He could sense that Harry was at a complete loss for something to say - that much was obvious from the silence in the car - and he could see that the brunette was full of remorse, however Draco was certain that Harry had no idea what he was supposed to be remorseful for.

The blonde reasoned, as Harry began to lead the way toward a set of lifts, that the remark in the car was meant to be completely harmless. He figured the knowledge that he was chauffer driven would have probably invoked that kind of comment from any number of people, however it was the fact that Harry had made the observation that hit Draco hardest. He didn't want Harry to think of him as a rich, spoiled little brat. He'd experienced that type of ill-informed, stereotypical shit before, and the emotional scars of that encounter were still very raw.

He wanted Harry to see him as an equal, as a normal everyday member of society. The last thing Draco wanted was for anyone, especially Harry, to see his inheritance and background as anything other than what it was. He didn't want to be thought of as special - because special treatment only lead to envy. And everyone knows what happens when envy rears its ugly head…

Once they were inside the plush, mirrored lift, both men found it infinitely impossible to continue avoiding each other's gazes as each way they turned their reflections bounced back at them. With a badly concealed steeling breath, Harry finally made eye contact with Draco through their reflection.

"I'm sorry. I was out of line before. I've never considered you as 'spoiled'. To be honest, I sometimes forget that you're…wealthy." Harry said quietly, his tone and his expression absolutely sincere. "I was actually kidding when I said about you having a chauffer, I was surprised when you said you didn't have a car because…well…your image and…how you look…"

Draco bristled again, his eyes flashing, and Harry seemed to flounder as he realised how his comment could - and more than likely by the expression on Draco's face - had been construed.

"I mean…er…well, you…you're…very…attract-...attractive…and, erm…" Harry stuttered, feeling like a complete fool. His eyes widened as he processed the details of his stammering, and he turned to find a curious frown creasing Draco's pale face. He promptly tried to cover his tracks. "I mean, you know, you're well dressed…and…you always look good…and smell good…-"

Harry instantly cut off so he could have a chance to pray for the ground to open up and swallow him. Self-loathing and downright incredulity slammed into him, and he scrambled to say what he actually meant before he could dig himself in any deeper. "- you just look like the kind of guy that should be driving my car, rather than walking." he finished quickly, turning away and fixing his eyes on the ground. Please, God! If you have any compassion - kill me, kill me now!

The lift's disembodied voice announced their floor, and Harry sighed with relief as the doors slid open and he had a chance to escape his humiliation.

After a fraction of a stunned second, Draco realised that Harry had exited and swiftly moved to follow him, stumbling a little when the heavy file bag on his shoulder slipped down his arm and threw him off balance. Thankfully, Harry, in his distracted state, didn't notice.

Draco was sure that the conversation that had taken place inside the elevator was a figment of his imagination. There was no way that in a total of three broken sentences Harry had just told Draco he thought he was hot. No way!

Any other thought that may have proceeded was instantly cut off the moment Draco stepped inside Harry's apartment. Now, Draco, who was accustomed to expensive furnishings and modern technology wasn't usually impressed by something as simple a high tech fridge or a priceless painting. However, Harry's apartment was stunning.

The warm earthy colours, dark wood flooring, antique oak furniture and a couch with so many thick cushions it looked as though you could melt into it…! It was beautiful. It appeared as though the brunette had tried to recreate the interior of an old stately castle. Bookshelves lined an entire wall with thick tomes undoubtedly filled with anything relating to Law. The only high tech things in sight; a plasma T.V set against the wall above a small blank screen below.

And the smell…was Harry - pure, unadulterated and absolutely heavenly!

"You can come in." Harry's voice floated into Draco's consciousness, and the blonde realised that he was still standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging open slightly. With a small mental shake and a soft clearing of his throat, Draco composed himself and stepped inside the apartment.

Harry, who still appeared to be dithering a little, walked around the lounge, dodging furniture, with the air of a person who knew the floor layout so much that he could do it with his eyes closed, and picking up a small remote control from the thick oak coffee table he flicked it toward the small screen below the T.V and the image of flames burst across it. The odd thing was that, even though it was just basically an image of flickering flames, the room instantly felt warmer for it.

"Here, I'll take that. Thank you." Harry murmured, approaching Draco, indicating the file bag with a small smile. Relieving the blonde man of its weight, Harry pointed to the couch, "You can sit down if you'd like. Would you like something to drink?" He asked, his impeccable manners causing Draco to smile a little.

"I'm fine, thanks." He breathed, edging his way into the room, surreptitiously glancing around in the process.

When Harry disappeared into another room, Draco used the opportunity to have more of a snoop without looking too nosy. With a quick glance at the books on the shelves, he found that he was right in thinking they were work related; however there were a few novels tucked away on one of the lower shelves. Beneath a huge dressed window with thick flowing drapes stood a dresser with a collection of framed photographs, and Draco, hoping to spot an embarrassing one of Harry, migrated towards it. He was surprised when he found them all to be of the same group of people.

One in particular caught Draco's eye and as he picked it up, he heard the brunette re-enter the room. "You look remarkably like your father, Harry." He said with a small smile, gazing at the man who looked to be about their age holding an infant Harry in his arms. "Although -" and picking up the photo that had been standing beside the first, he continued "Your eyes are the same colour as…your mother?" he finished uncertainly. He had been sure with the first picture, as Harry had been present in it. However, that of the woman with tumbling red curls was a solo portrait. There was something distinctly 'Harry' about her though.

"Yes, that's my mother. Lily."

Harry's voice caused Draco to jump slightly. The blonde hadn't realised how close the other man stood to him until he felt his cool breath whisper across the side of his face as Harry looked over his shoulder.

"She's very beautiful." Draco said softly, his eyes drinking in the sight of Harry's parents. He felt a small measure of triumph as he learned something of Harry's life outside of the obvious work stuff. His parents were obviously very important to the brunette, and Draco found himself wondering if he'd ever get the chance to meet them.

"Thank you." Harry replied simply, his tone a little wistful as he reached across, his chest pressing slightly against Draco's back, and ran his finger over the glass that held the picture in place. Draco had the distinct impression that Harry hadn't seen his mother for a little while and missed her very much.

Neither man seemed to want to acknowledge how closely they stood to each other, as they continued to silent gaze at the picture of Lily.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" Harry's voice whispered close to Draco's ear a few minutes later, and the blonde shivered slightly, his eyes falling closed in the process. "I know it's a bit early, but I've got wine…Don't tell Hermione though." He said, a smile in his voice.

Draco sagged a little as the brunette moved away, and placing the photos back into their original positions, he turned and found Harry had disappeared again. Heading to the kitchen, Draco was yet again stunned by the décor.

A quintessential country kitchen. Light and airy with pale wood cupboards and a butlers sink. There were obvious mod-cons; swivelling space saving cabinets and a small T.V that flipped down from beneath one of the upper units. The fridge and appliances were hidden behind faux cabinet doors to keep from ruining the authenticity of a country kitchen with the ugliness of a washing machine.

Noticing a collection of empty wine bottles on the counter, Draco recalled Harry's last statement. "Someone had themselves a party." Draco laughed, causing Harry, who was surveying the contents of his fridge, to turn and follow Draco's line of vision. A small blush crept over the brunette's cheeks and he turned guiltily to Draco.

"Oh, that. Yes, probably not one of my best ideas, however yesterday was a long day." He murmured, resting his cheek against the edge of the fridge door.

"And that's why you became hypoglycaemic…alcohol can affect you for a few days after, right?" Draco enquired, moving around the kitchen and glancing into the sink where he found an empty wine glass and a breakfast bowl. "You weren't lying when you said you had eaten, then." He added.

He could feel Harry's eyes on his face, and when he glanced up he found a serious expression darkening his eyes. "I don't lie." He said simply, letting the fridge door slowly swing closed.

"Anyway, speaking of parties, I'm guessing it was your own little hangover that was to blame for your tardiness this morning, hmm?" Harry smiled, his arms crossing over his chest and his hip jutting out to the side. Draco laughed at how adorably cute Harry looked when he was trying to be serious.

"Ahh, yes. I'm sorry about that. I had an alarm clock malfunction…I forgot to set it." He replied, hoping his expression was as innocent and remorseful as it felt. "It won't happen again." He added more sincerely.

Shrugging and indicating that they head back into the lounge, Harry laughed again. "I don't mind the occasional sicky or late start, so long as it's only occasional. One of us should be able to go out and have a good time." he sighed, falling onto the couch, a smile spreading across his face as his eyes dropped closed. Perching on the edge, Draco's eyes probed the other man's face, greedily drinking in as much of him as possible.

"Incidentally, well done with the whole Lavender thing. I really appreciate it. I would never have forgiven myself if I had been responsible for Parvati staying with Lavender, and then later finding that she had been hurt because of her mother's drug habit." Harry shivered. "One thing I hate more than drugs is children being poorly treated."

Draco shifted uncomfortably, the conversation making him nervous. Harry spoke with obvious passion, and it disturbed the blonde a little. He found himself scrambling for a subject change, and a block of scarlet in the corner of his vision drew his eye toward the coffee table.

There in the centre, looking completely innocent, was Harry's beloved red folder.

"Looks harmless, doesn't it?" Harry asked after a few silent minutes, and glancing at the brunette, Draco found that he too had been looking at the file.

Draco didn't say anything. Harry's question was quite obviously rhetorical, and he was afraid that if he said anything it would stop the other man from speaking. Because, Harry was going to speak, Draco was sure of it.

"Do you remember yesterday I told you I had met a man named Tom?" He asked slowly, continuing when Draco nodded. "That file is about him." He whispered, now staring into the false flames of his imitation fireplace.

Draco watched him, silently. Sinking a little into the cushions behind him as he studied Harry's face.

"25 years ago, Tom Riddle was C.E.O of a company called Morsmordre. They dealt in computer software. Riddle had this delusional dream that he was going to take over the business world with his product, unfortunately his product was already on the market at a much lower price and the company went bust.

"Deranged, in massive amounts of debt, drunk and intoxicated with a class A drug, Riddle walked into the final company board meeting and shot the five remaining members of the committee." Harry said, his tone flat, lifeless. It sounded as though he had said the words a thousand times before.

"Once he had killed his employees, Riddle went on a high speed joy ride. He was thought to have been going 120mph in a 50mph zone.

"Obviously, he didn't make the crazed journey without an accident. It is thought that he lost control on a patch of ice and spun out. He went straight across the middle barrier separating oncoming traffic and collided head on with a Phoenix metro. Riddle was driving a Voldemort! The phoenix didn't stand a chance.

"Riddle was unscathed. The driver of the Phoenix died on impact, the passenger is thought to have survived long enough to climb into the back seat…" Harry paused, reaching across for the file and plucking out a newspaper clipping. "She was found draped over a car seat." He finished.

Draco's hand flew up to his mouth, his eyes widening in horror. Harry passed him the newspaper clipping, a sombre expression on his face as he gazed intently at Draco.

Lowering his eyes to the piece of yellowed, slightly rumpled paper, Draco read the headline with a growing sense of dread.

'The Boy Who Lived' the headline read a picture of a mangled car below it. '…Miracle of Godric's Hollow tragedy. A baby boy was left orphaned last night after his parents were tragically killed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. The driver, Mr Tom Riddle…' Draco skipped the information that Harry had already told him, only interested in what happened to the baby. 'The baby boy, miraculously escaped with little more than head injuries, and is said to be doing well. He is currently in the care of local authorities…'

Draco glanced up and found Harry once again staring at the fire. "What happened to the baby?"

Harry's expression didn't change, he simply continued to stare. "Grew up in care, he had no other living family." He said with a shrug.

"Have you ever met him? It doesn't say a name, did you trace him or…" Draco asked quietly, trailing off when a humourless smile passed Harry's lips. Turning and fixing Draco with a tormented stare, he offered the blonde another document, only this time it was death certificate.

His stomach twisting with absolute dismay, and his heart sinking pitifully in his chest, Draco gazed at the document for a long moment. The name Lily Potter in the box marked deceased caused his heart to squeeze painfully and he couldn't stop the tear that slid down his face, landing on the word marked 'Mother' beside the space left for occupation

"It's me." Harry whispered tightly.

To Be Continued….


	9. Someone like you

Previously…

His stomach twisting with absolute horror and his heart sinking pitifully in his chest, Draco gazed at the document for a long moment. The name Lily Potter in the box marked deceased caused his heart to squeeze painfully and he couldn't stop the tear that slid down his face, landing on the word marked 'Mother' beside the space left for occupation

"It's me." Harry whispered tightly.

******

Draco's eyes slid up from the document in his hands and connected with Harry's glittering green orbs; a loaded look passing between them as a heavy silence descended.

Harry wasn't sure what else to say, wasn't sure if he should say any more. He saw in the periphery of his vision Draco swallow a few times, his Adam's apple sliding down his pale throat and disappearing behind the top button of his shirt.

Icy cold fear washed over Harry. He was sure that he had overstepped that invisible employer/employee line, and the feeling only increased the longer Draco remained silent.

The blonde's hard grey stare became too much, too intense, and Harry could no longer hold it. Instead he pulled his gaze away and concentrated on the document in the blonde's hands. Purely to break the tense silence, and studiously ignoring the voice in his head that was screaming for him to shut the hell up, Harry continued his story.

"I was a year old. My parents, Lily and James, had no other family so I grew up in care." He said, one of his fingers coiling around the knot of his tie, gently loosening it.

He stared off, his gaze lingering on the fake flickering of flames on the screen ahead of him.

"I used to lie in bed at night and try to imagine what they were like; how they looked and smelled and sounded-" He whispered softly as though he were talking to himself, "-I'd close my eyes and pretend that I could hear them talking or see them laughing, pretend they were there. That's all I ever wanted…someone to be there…" He trailed off, this time fully aware that he was saying too much, yet he couldn't stop talking. He didn't want to stop talking.

He could feel Draco studying his face, probably waiting for a tear to fall, but none did. He simply smiled humourlessly, his gaze still locked on the artificial fire as his mind slipped easily into his past. He could almost smell the scent of the bed sheets at the Children's Home, the echo of kids laughing, the scurry of mice behind the walls…

"I spent my entire childhood alone; I was never adopted…I think the first lesson I ever learned was that I was the only person I could rely on. I mean, I don't have ridiculously crippling trust issues, but I've always…" he paused, biting his lip thoughtfully as a small frown pulled his eyebrows together "…kept my distance, you know? Stayed back and avoided being…" he trailed off again, his eyes immediately flashing to Draco's face as though he only just realised he were still speaking. An apologetic, almost embarrassed, expression passed across his troubled face, and he adopted one of his false smiles.

Draco was displeased to see the manufactured pull at the corners of Harry's mouth. It displeased him because it wasn't really a smile, more of a grimace, and it always showed the opposite to humour. It never reached the brunette's eyes and it never made Draco want to smile in return. He reasoned that, given Harry's tale, it wasn't something that he was likely to smile fondly about. A small shiver passed over the blonde as he imagined what life had actually been like for the man sitting before him, and he felt a new type of respect for the brunette.

The unnatural smile that Harry had displayed lasted all of two seconds before it was replaced by a heavy frown. "Sorry, I'm being extraordinarily unprofessional; you shouldn't have to listen to this." He murmured, gently removing the death certificate from Draco's hand and placing it back inside the red folder.

Draco noticed how delicately Harry handled the file, as though he were afraid of damaging it, and he reasoned that the brunette had every right to hold dear the information. It all suddenly made sense - Harry's desperation when Draco had 'mislaid' the red file on his first day…of course he would be upset about losing something so personal, so vital.

Blinking, Draco replied "No. It's fine, really." His voice was so soft that he was barely audible; afraid that if he spoke too loudly it would somehow break the spell that had fallen over them.

He knew that Harry wanted to talk, he could see it. All he had to do was wait; patience was always the key with the brunette, and lately Draco found himself with more than ample supply of it.

Another humourless smile pulled at Harry's lips, his finger pulling at the knot of his tie once more, and as though the realisation that he was no longer at work had hit him, he tugged more firmly, pulling apart the knot and removing it altogether. Draco's eyes widen slightly as the brunette began undoing the buttons of his shirt, and he suppressed a groan when he stopped at two, pulling his collar apart with a heavy sigh.

When Harry didn't continue speaking, Draco began to prompt him. "It must feel good coming home everyday, though -" He smiled, his eyes leaving Harry's face and instead flicking around the room pointedly " -Knowing that it's yours."

"You'd think, but not really." Harry replied with a shrug. "I mean, a home is only a home when it has a family. Otherwise it's just four walls containing stuff. I feel more at home at Aurors but even then…there's something missing…" He frowned to himself in bemusement "Its kind-of like I battle so hard to have my own life that I'm forgetting to live it"

Draco, sensing the brunette's decline in mood, decided to try and lighten the moment.

"Deep." He smiled softly and was pleased when Harry mimicked it, obviously taking the statement as it was intended. A small breathy laugh escaped Harry's lips and he turned to face the blonde, rolling his eyes slightly

"Yeah. You know, I had my first job at the age of 12, it was a paper round. I was desperate for independence even then. If I wasn't studying, I was earning money, intent on making something for myself." He said, the smile remaining, and Draco felt his stomach flutter as he saw the corners of the brunette's green eyes crinkle. There it was, Harry's real smile.

"What made you want to become a solicitor?" Draco asked, turning slightly so he was facing Harry, his leg accidentally brushing against the brunette's hand causing an electric shock to shoot through the blonde's body at the contact. He suppressed the urge to grin madly when Harry failed to remove his hand, keeping it so his fingers rested against Draco's knee. The blonde couldn't tell if it was deliberate or not because the brunette was studying the dresser holding the pictures of his parents, a slight frown on his face.

"I knew quite early on that I wanted to work within the law sector." He said vaguely, turning away from the photos and back to Draco. "Hermione encouraged me; she and I both filled out University applications together, lived together in a shared house. She was the first person whom I actually…connected with."

Draco's eyebrows shot up and his stomach plummeted. Connected with?! So, Harry really did have a thing for The Weasel Woman, they had a history…

Harry's sudden laughter filled the room causing Draco to jump slightly "In a purely platonic way, of course! Oh, God, I love Hermione dearly, but I could never…! No, she's like a sister…" Harry shuddered, an amused smile pulling at his lips. "That's why she's so…uptight around me; she feels the need to protect me. Not that I need protecting!" He added as an afterthought.

Draco couldn't help but disagree, albeit silently, and he decided to divert the subject before he spoke his mind. "You said that you met Tom Riddle yesterday? How?"

Any trace of humour that was left in Harry's expression vanished at the sound of Tom Riddle's name and was replaced by the same troubled, ill expression he had worn the day before in his office. Draco instantly felt wretched for destroying the light moment that settled over them; however he became intrigued by Harry's reply.

"Is this between me and you?" The brunette asked, turning his piercing green gaze to Draco's face.

It took less than a fraction of a second for Draco to think about. "Always." He replied simply.

A small smile tugged at Harry's reluctant lips as Draco's instant statement sunk in and a distant part of his mind wondered when he had come to trust the blonde. After all, he had just told the other man far more than what was appropriate for a boss to tell his employee and now he was going to dispense even more private information, information that he hadn't even entrusted to his best friend.

His smile faded as he gazed at Draco's expectant face and he sighed softly. "He's serving 7 life sentences in Azkaban prison. I requested an appointment with him…under Hermione's name." he said guilty, his eyes ashamedly looking away from the blonde. "I didn't want him to realise who I was and refuse to see me. When I arrived at the prison, I told them that Hermione couldn't make it and had sent me instead."

"I'm guessing she wouldn't be too happy…?" Draco murmured rhetorically. He needed no reply having spent a month in her presence; he knew Hermione would go ballistic if she knew what Harry had done.

"Hermione throws around the word 'obsessed' a lot. I suppose she's right…she usually is. You saw how mad she was because I had that file-" Harry said, pointing at the folder that was once again on the coffee table "-she'd probably have me sectioned if she knew I had been to see him. She doesn't understand, she doesn't know what it's like! Sometimes you need something so badly that you're prepared to do anything to get it, sometimes desperate times-"

"Call for desperate measures?" Draco offered softly. "I understand that more than anyone. You don't have to explain yourself to me, Harry." he added, shaking his head gently.

"I don't want you to think badly of me." Harry confessed, once again staring intently into Draco's eyes, and the blonde was sure he could feel Harry's fingers lightly caressing his knee; however he was afraid to look down, afraid that if he drew attention to it, the brunette would stop.

"I wouldn't." Draco breathed.

Harry's head fell heavily against the cushions behind him; however he didn't break eye contact.

"It felt right, that I visit him on the anniversary, almost poetic. I thought that I was going to get answers, closure…" He whispered, his eyes flickering away for a moment before once again settling on Draco's silver orbs. "If anything, I felt worse. He didn't care, had no remorse, nothing. I've spent my whole life waiting to meet the man who…! You know, when I told him who I was, he just…" Harry trailed off, mortified when his eyes began to sting indicating the impending arrival of tears.

He moved so suddenly that Draco literally gasped with surprise. Standing and grabbing the file, Harry moved around the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen, and with a desperate need to have it out of his sight he stuffed the folder into one the many drawers lining the room.

Draco turned and watched, a troubled frown springing to his face as the brunette displayed his standard 'Harry' behaviour. Draco had come to find that when things became a little too difficult for the other man he would disappear behind a mask of distraction, however this time Draco wasn't going to let it drop.

Following Harry into the other room, ignoring the fact that the brunette was randomly opening cupboard doors in an attempt to look busy, he leant against the door frame with his arms crossing loosely over his chest. "What did he do?" He asked softly, not missing the small hitch in Harry's movements.

"Cup of tea?" The brunette asked as though he hadn't heard Draco speak, flicking on the kettle and grabbing two mugs from a cupboard above his head.

Draco didn't reply. Apparently he had no choice as the other man was going to prepare two mugs either way. He knew whatever Tom Riddle had done was bothering Harry deeply, that much was obvious from the level of his distraction, and he wondered whether he should just drop the subject and leave Harry be; however, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to know.

"What did he do, Harry?"

The brunette, who was half-way through pouring the kettle-water into the mugs, looked at Draco, his expression more broken than Draco had ever witnessed, and he opened his mouth to reply.

Suddenly his green eyes widened and the kettle that he had been holding slammed against the counter-top. "Shit!" he cried out as the overflowing water from the mug seeped into his shirt and onto his stomach.

For a moment Draco was completely puzzled by the other man's reaction. It wasn't until Harry began ripping his shirt out from the waistband of his trousers that he realised the brunette was in physical pain. "Fucking hell, that's hot!" he gasped, fumbling with his buttons in his haste to remove his shirt.

Draco ran forward, grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him over to the sink, throwing a tea towel that was folded on the drainer underneath the cold water tap in the process. Harry, who was hissing a non-stop string of profanities under his breath, was still struggling with his shirt, and Draco, needing to be able to place the wet cloth directly on the brunette's skin, began pulling at the fabric himself.

If Harry was surprised at Draco's sudden desperation to remove his clothes, he hid it well. Although, Draco reasoned, it was probably due to the added distraction of the blonde ripping Harry's insulin set from his skin in his haste.

"Oh, my God! Kick me in the nuts whilst you're at it!" The brunette hissed, his hand flying down to the red mark on his hip where the sticky tape that kept the connection inserted had been savagely torn from his skin.

Ignoring the fact that Harry was now displaying vast amounts of smooth pale skin and was in possession of the most delectable chest Draco had ever seen, he gently pressed the cold cloth against the red mark that was forming on his stomach where the scolding water had touched. Another hiss escaped Harry's lips, and Draco suppressed the urge to laugh.

"Should I kick you in the nuts now or later?" He asked, trying to keep the humour from his voice as he concentrated on the brunette's stomach, his hand still holding the cold cloth in place as Harry seemed too irritated to do it himself.

"Careful, at this rate I might die of hilarity." Harry replied, sullenly rubbing at his hip. Draco refused to look down incase he saw anything that resembled a needle and instead busied himself with inspecting Harry's first wound, albeit with a rather large smirk on his face.

"You know, I think you'll live. And don't worry; you're not scarred for life." He laughed, glancing up from Harry's stomach to his face, his eyes catching the odd scar that marred the brunette's otherwise perfect face.

A reluctant, knowing smile pulled at Harry's lips. "Well, I have it on good authority that guys with scars are sexy." he laughed, placing his hand over Draco's as to press the cold cloth closer to his skin.

Draco's hand tingled and his entire body fought to stay still, to not move and maintain contact, however his practical side took over and before he could pull Harry close and kiss the life out of him, he slipped his hand out from beneath the brunette's and took a step back.

"Oh, right. Good luck with that." he breathed, removing his eyes from the other man altogether and turning to fix the mess that Harry had made of the counter top. "And I'm sorry." He murmured, finding another cloth to soak up the water.

"You're forgiven. I'll just deduct compensation from your wages for my pain and suffering." Harry laughed, pulling his insulin pump from his trousers and inspecting it for water damage. He sighed knowing he'd have to go and replace the connection to his skin.

Draco turned, his expression sombre and when he caught Harry's eye he shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry if he hurt you. You don't deserve it."

Harry was thrown by the abrupt return to the subject and felt his eyes widen slightly as Draco's statement sank in. The brunette was taken aback by the gentleness of Draco's voice, the tenderness of his words. The blonde sounded sincere, genuine, and Harry very nearly let himself take comfort in the other man's words.

"I don't want your pity." He mumbled, glancing back at his pump, looping the long thin tubing distractedly.

"I don't do pity, this is empathy. I know what it's like…to have someone knock you down, and I'm sorry." Draco said tightly. He very much wanted to look at Harry but his stomach was unable to handle it. "Can you please stop waving that thing about, because I will pass out." he added, holding his hand up to try and block out anything resembling a needle that swung around with every loop Harry made of the piping.

Glancing up at Draco's suddenly pallid face and the hand he held out, Harry glanced down and realised why the blonde was so edgy. "It's O.K, it's not a needle, see-" He said holding up the disc that Draco was trying to block out. "-It's plastic. I only use a needle to insert it."

"Still, I'd rather not look at it." Draco murmured, his eyes trained on the window behind Harry's head.

"Right, I'm sorry. " The brunette nodded before pulling off the tubing and set and disposing it in the bin. "It's gone."

Draco, feeling like a complete idiot, lowered his hand, and with a blush staining his pale cheeks he sighed. "Thanks." He said softly, shame colouring his tone.

"Why are you afraid of needles?" Harry asked suddenly. He stared at Draco's face intently, noting with curiosity the sudden stricken expression that sprang to the other man's face. It was a question he had wanted to ask since the blonde had mentioned it back in his office, but at the time with Hermione present he didn't want to cause the other man any discomfort. Now, however, he had no reason to hold back.

Draco opened his mouth and closed it again, his entire being screaming discomfort and for a moment Harry felt guilty for bringing the subject up, however out of nowhere the blonde's chin jutted out and his head tilted, an expression of superiority sliding across his face. "Why am I blonde, and male, and right-handed? I just am!"

Shocked by Draco's abrupt shift in attitude, Harry found himself replying before he even thought of what he was saying. "Why do you do that?" He asked, his tone just as harsh as Draco's had been "Why, when I make any type of reference to your life, do you snap at me and stick your nose in the air?"

Silence met Harry's words and stretched on for a number of minutes. It was an uncomfortable silence; the kind that you can feel pressing against your eardrums and both men struggled to find a way out of it.

Turning his back on the other man, Harry threw the wet dish towel in the washing machine and busied himself with trying to cover his exposed chest with his wet shirt that now had several buttons missing. He could feel Draco's eyes boring into his back, and a glance at the window above the sink showed the other man's reflection with a look of pure annoyance on his face. Harry watched as, for the first time since they had arrived at his flat, Draco's hand made its nervous little journey through his silvery hair, and Harry found himself disappointed that he had caused the other man to feel discomforted in his home. That was the very last thing he had wanted to do…!

Deciding to break the frigid atmosphere that had settled over the kitchen, Harry turned to apologize; however before he even had a chance to open his mouth, Draco spoke.

"I don't like needles because..." he began, his chest heaving slightly as though he were fighting an on-coming panic attack. He paused, his eyes flicking to the ground away from Harry's intense emerald stare, and he seemed to change his answer at the last moment. "…they hurt." he finished lamely.

Harry knew Draco was lying, he knew that Draco knew this too which caused Harry to frown. Why would the blonde lie so blatantly, and badly, when he knew that Harry would spot it a mile off? Why would he lie about something as innocent as a needle phobia? It didn't make sense!

Silence descended again, only this time it wasn't as deafening, just awkward. Harry didn't know how to reply without causing more tension because he really wanted to know why the other man kept so much back. Why he didn't share anything remotely personal!

Leaning against the counter top, Harry studied Draco's tightly controlled stance; his hip resting against the counter top on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed tightly against his chest as though he dearly wished he could disappear into himself. The look of sneering superiority had vanished from his face and had been replaced with an odd expression of resignation as he stared at one of the terracotta floor tiles, his hair falling into his eyes hiding any type of emotion that Harry could hope to read in them. Draco appeared to all the world that he was a naughty school boy waiting to be told off. Why?!

The tension became too much for Harry and he found himself randomly opening cupboards again, moving cans and packets around haphazardly. "I was devastated when I realised I'd have to use needles all the time." He said in an attempt to divert the conversation away from the blonde. "I'd always been squeamish because of an evil nurse who gave me a tetanus shot when I was 9, so the moment I was told I'd be dependant on them…well, I didn't react too well." He said, shaking his head. Drawing his head out of the cupboard, he chanced a glance at Draco, who was still staring at the ground; however a slight inclination of his head showed Harry that he was listening.

"I wasn't diagnosed with diabetes until I was 23." Harry continued, leaning his head against the open cupboard door, his eyes staying on the other man. Draco's silvery eyes snapped up and connected with Harry's, disbelief evident in his stare.

"23? Type-1 Diabetes is usually diagnosed in childhood." The blonde contradicted, his tone indicating he was certain of what he was saying. It was the first time Harry had ever heard the other man say anything with such confidence and certitude.

The brunette frowned because Draco was right; generally his type of diabetes was diagnosed in childhood…

"That's true, but I was sick for a while with a virus and my immune system kind-of attacked my insulin producing cells and….yadda, yadda, yadda." Harry replied, closing the cupboard door, the need to look busy overshadowed by curiosity at Draco's reaction. He now had the blonde's undivided attention; it was like Harry had finally captured the other man's interest, intellectually speaking.

"That's incredibly rare." Draco murmured, his arms unfolding from his chest and falling to his sides.

"It is. How do you know?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Draco's limbs retracted instantly, his arms curling defensively against his chest once more, and he seemed to catch himself as his chin began to jut out and disguised the movement as a casual head flick to remove the hair that had fallen into his eyes.

"My father is a cardiovascular surgeon, you pick things up." He said with a tight shrug of his shoulders. Harry wasn't as surprised that Draco's father was a surgeon as he was by the fact Draco had actually told him. It was quite possibly the very first piece of personal information the blonde had actually volunteered. His nonchalance wasn't really fooling Harry though; he could tell there was more to it than what Draco had said. Harry had a feeling that Draco and his father didn't get along too well.

"You said you didn't react well…" Draco prompted when Harry's inquisitive gaze became more than a little suspicious.

A small amused smile pulled at Harry's lips as he considered his reply, and the blonde breathed a small sigh of relief; he really didn't want Harry becoming too interested in his background.

"I tried to kid myself that I didn't need the insulin, so obviously I didn't need syringes either; I threw them all out." Harry laughed, missing the shiver that passed over Draco.

"How long did you last?" Draco asked, his head tilting as he surveyed Harry. He noted with more than a little surprise that Harry still had vast amounts of chest on display.

"I collapsed the next day…in the middle of court! Luckily, I was only observing. I ended up in Accident and Emergency being rigged up to a bunch of IVs. So much for avoiding needles!" Harry laughed, and he was pleased to see Draco finally smile again. The small quirk of the blonde's soft-looking, pink pouty lips made the tense atmosphere that had engulfed the room instantly melt away.

"I'll never forget that day. I vowed to just get a grip and get over my fear. The funny thing is it wasn't even the fact that I almost slipped into a coma that shook me."

"What was it?" Draco asked softly.

"Whilst I was in A and E, a guy was rushed in, attempted suicide from what I could tell. I remember his girlfriend screaming as a bunch of doctors frantically tried to save him" Harry said, his eyes leaving Draco's face and staring at a patch of wall to the right of his head, recalling the day from 2 years previous. "They kept using those shocker paddle things, you know -" He said looking back at Draco and demonstrating with his hands "Clear!" He added, holding imaginary paddles out before him.

A small chuckle escaped Draco and he shook his head at how adorable the man before him looked. "Defibrillator?" he supplied, shaking his head with humour.

Harry's head bobbed up and down, as he continued with enthusiasm "Yeah, that. Well, they kept using that, and all I could think was this guy was trying to kill himself…how was I any different? From that moment on I tried my best to take care of myself. I figured one of us should do our best to carry on living." His face turned sombre, his eyes distant "For all I know he's dead" he whispered.

"You don't know that." Draco said softly, the urge to comfort the troubled looking man almost indescribable. "He could have pulled through and won the lottery" He smiled, his stomach fluttering when Harry returned it. "For all you know you've passed him on the street and…admired his car."

The peal of laughter that escaped from the brunette caused Draco's heart to grind to halt and he turned his head away as he tried to dismiss it.

It felt as though a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over the blonde's head and he fought to keep himself from gasping as his skin erupted with goosebumps. What the hell was that? It was one thing fancying Harry, but it was quite another for his heart to be reacting to him! Anything beyond a quickened pace was utterly out of the question! There was no way on earth that Draco could let himself feel anything beyond lust for the man stood before him.

Harry, sensing Draco's sudden shift in mood, cleared his throat and continued as though the blonde hadn't interrupted. "Anyway, I always think that could've been me. I guess I owe him a lot, hopefully he is driving around in a Porsche somewhere." He added with a small smile.

A forced smile pulled at Draco's lips a beat too late and Harry found himself trying to analyse it. There was so much to Draco that he just didn't understand, so many small, almost imperceptible details like the odd way his mood would swing in the complete opposite direction in the matter of seconds, and he couldn't work out why, as hard as he tried he just couldn't fathom.

Both of their attentions were drawn suddenly to the kitchen counter where Harry's pump had begun bleeping, interrupting what was sure to be another tense silence. Grateful for the distraction, Harry grasped the small device and with the press of a few buttons, shut the beeping off. "I better go and…" He trailed off, holding up the pump as an explanation.

"Right, I'll go." Draco said softly. He felt it was probably wise to put as much distance between himself and Harry as possible because he really didn't like the way his heart had begun stuttering in the brunette's presence.

Harry's heart, on the other hand, sank. He really didn't want Draco to leave. The blonde somehow brought life to a flat that Harry had never felt any particular warmth for and he didn't want that warmth to go away. That thought surprised Harry because, generally, he didn't feel comfortable having people inside his home, he always felt awkward and inhospitable, but with Draco it was different. It was natural. It was like he was meant to be there, belonged there.

Harry watched as the blonde man's teeth pulled anxiously at his soft-looking bottom lip and he desperately wished he had the courage to sweep across the room and kiss it. "Don't feel you have to-"

"No, it's fine. I actually want to go and have a look at the church we passed anyway." Draco shrugged.

Harry's eyebrows shot up "St. Albus's?" The image of Draco sitting in church appeared in Harry's mind and he fought to keep the shock from his face.

"Yes. My friends, Pansy and Blaise, are getting married there in a few weeks." Draco replied, a small affectionate smile sliding across his face, and Harry found a tiny bubble of envy developing in his chest. He'd like nothing better than to warrant that kind of smile from the blonde man. He quite obviously loved the people of whom he spoke of.

Looking away, knowing that disappointment was probably evident on his face, Harry crossed his arms against his chest. "Well, it's a beautiful church. I'm sure they will love it."

Smooth laughter filled the room, and glancing back at Draco's face, Harry found the blonde wearing an adorably incredulous expression. "You don't know Pansy, she'll hate it until she has decorated it herself." he laughed, shaking his head as though his statement were common knowledge. "Blaise is going to have a dog's life. Thank god I'm only the best man and not the groom, that's all I can say!"

"Best man? Important job. I was Ron's best man…we totally forgot the rings, Hermione was livid." Harry said with a guilty laugh.

Draco's heart skipped again, and before he had a chance to scold himself for it, he opened his mouth. "Do you want to come with me? To the wedding." he asked bluntly. As soon as the words were said he regretted them. Of all the idiotic…! He knew he was setting himself up for a fall, and judging by the way Harry's eyebrows shot up it was definitely going to be a long drop down. He could almost hear the wind whistling in his ears!

Harry knew he was staring but he couldn't seem to stop. Draco had just…asked him out? That was definitely how it sounded.

Was Draco gay then? Sometimes Harry thought that maybe the blonde was flirting with him, sometimes the things he said and the way he said them, the way he carried himself…his impeccable dress sense! But then he'd see him talking to Fleur, the way his eyes sometimes strayed towards her as she walked passed, an expression of longing and appreciation painted so blatantly across his face. He could never be sure. It was like Draco was trying to confuse him. And he was succeeding.

Draco wished Harry would just tell him no and end his agony. The look of complete astonishment that was displayed on his face was practically killing the blonde. What the hell had he been thinking?! Asking Harry to the wedding had to be one of the most stupid things he had ever done…and Draco had done some freakin' stupid things in his time! Harry was straight, for Christ sake!

"Yes."

Draco's eyes fell to the ground at the sound of Harry's voice, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance as he began to reply. "Right, you're probably busy and…wait, yes?" He added, shock crashing over him. His traitorous heart skipped again, letting him know that it had heard Harry and was going to celebrate. It promptly began hammering against his chest.

A self-conscious smile pulled at Harry's mouth as he watched the astonishment render the other man speechless. The blonde begun biting his bottom lip again and Harry felt a familiar stirring in his stomach. Lust.

"Champagne and the prospect of Best Man foul-ups…how could I possibly say no?" Harry said with an amused shrug. He wasn't lying, he did quite like champagne, and he would be amused if Draco forgot his friends' rings; however that wasn't the reason he agreed to go. He just had a feeling that Draco had asked him with less sordid intents than what Harry's mind kept producing.

Draco's celebrating heart fell into his shoes at Harry's remark and never before had be felt so entirely crushed. Forcing an unwanted smile to his face, Draco nodded. "Yeah, I'm…I'm good at foul-ups." He whispered with a small humourless laugh.

Harry frowned, wondering what the other man meant, however he was distracted when once again his pump began to beep.

"You better go and sort that out, I'll…go." Draco said, edging towards the kitchen door. Harry, cursing the pump in his hand, nodded.

As much as he wanted to beg the blonde to stay, he watched as he gathered up his things and made his way towards the door. Meeting him there, his hand hovering over the handle, standing so close to the blonde that he could smell his aftershave, Harry did something he rarely allowed himself. He spoke without thinking. "I think you'll be a great Best Man…besides, you're my Best Man everyday. Not a lot of difference really."

Draco's silver eyes sparkled as he gazed into Harry's, and almost simultaneously, both men noticed the shift in atmosphere. It was almost as though the air around them was charged by the sexual tension that had exploded between them.

Harry was sure the blonde could hear his frantic heart as he began to inch closer, he was sure he'd soon be close enough that the other man would be able to taste his hot, puffing breaths. His eyelids willed to close as he inched still closer to the gorgeous man before him, and he greedily breathed in the aftershave, the unadulterated scent that was pure Draco.

I've been roaming around, always looking down at all I see…

Draco jumped backwards before Harry even had a chance to comprehend where the music that had burst into life had come from. With a horrified expression, the blonde extracted his mobile phone from his trouser pocket and slammed it against his ear. "Pans', now isn't a great time." He said in a tight, strangled voice, his eyes blinking rapidly. Harry had never seen the blonde so completely ruffled, and the stirring in his stomach doubled.

He watched as the blonde paused, taking in the callers reply, and a bubble of confidence exploded in the brunette's chest as he saw Draco disconnect the call.

It was now or never, he decided. He would do what felt right and deal with the consequences later.

As a famous poet (O.K, it was actually Ron) once said…fuck it mate, you only live once!

Focusing completely on Draco's wide silver eyes, Harry once again leant in. His left hand, that still clutched at his insulin pump, slowly stroked the length of the blonde's arm from his wrist up, and joy exploded within Harry when the other man didn't pull away.

Feeling emboldened, the back of Harry's hand trailed over Draco's shoulder and settled just below his ear, his fingers lightly brushing against the hair that sat there. And good god it was soft.

A small smile pulled at Harry's lips as he felt Draco tremble slightly at the touch, and whether it was confidence, or lust, or sheer dumb idiocy, the brunette pulled the blonde closer.

Draco, whose heart was jumping around his chest like a deranged gymnast, was torn between closing the space between himself and Harry, or wrenching the door open and running as fast as he could. He wanted Harry to kiss him, wanted Harry to drag him into his bedroom and have his way with him, but a little voice in his head whispered that he should run. Run as fast as he could and never look back. Run before Harry hurt him, before he destroyed the confidence and self-esteem and everything else that Draco had spent the last few years trying to rebuild. Run before he destroyed Harry, just like he had destroyed…

The brunette's lips were inches, centimetres, away from Draco's and the time for decision was almost spent. With a devil may care attitude fighting with his feeble attempt at restraint and self-preservation, the blonde took a calming breath through his nose and felt his eyelids drop.

Beep, beep, beep.

Harry's pump beeped shrilly in Draco's ear, causing him to once again pull away with a start.

It was all wrong, he concluded. Something was trying to tell him that kissing Harry was a bad idea, call it divine intervention, call it sheer paranoia, but whatever it was it convinced Draco to turn and to guide Harry's right hand that still rested on the handle to open the door.

"Go and reattach that, you've already had a close call today, don't try for a second." Draco said, completely aware that he was holding his nose in the air like Harry had described earlier, however he felt the need to hide behind his façade until he was safely away from Harry and his lips. "Bye."

As soon as the door was closed, Harry slumped against it. He willed his heart to slow, his breathing to relax but his body just wouldn't obey. With a feral growl, he pushed himself away from the door, flinging his blasted pump onto the coffee table as he passed, and threw himself onto the couch.

He collapsed against the sofa cushions and stared at the ceiling as he willed the hollowness in the pit of his stomach to disappear and the frantic beats of his heart to slow.

Had he just tried to kiss Draco?! Had Draco almost responded?

His head swam with possibilities which did nothing to calm his racing heart.

Something had changed. Something had drastically changed, and a new, unidentifiable sensation raced through Harry's veins and exploded inside his chest.

For weeks he had been thinking about Draco, thinking about what life would be like if he just bit the bullet and made a move. He had thought about every sexual exploit known to man, picturing the blonde at the heart of all of them. Weeks had passed and the feelings intensified.

He wanted Draco, not only sexually but emotionally. Yes, he wanted to have mad, frantic, passionate sex with the blonde, but he also found himself wanting to know him, really know him. Mind, body and soul. He wanted to know what made Draco so defensive when conversation was directed at him, wanted to know why he lied about his past and settled for a job that was so obviously below him. But most of all, more than anything in the world, Harry wanted to love him.

It wasn't until later that night when he felt himself reaching the borders of sleep, when his brain finally processed the day's events and he remembered all the details of his life he had shared with the blonde man, the amount of trust he had put in him, that Harry realised what that un-named sensation that had sped through his body had been. It was hope.

As the knowledge of that settled, something else occurred to him. Something that surprised and also pleased him, so much so that a small smile pulled at his lips even as he slid into the depths of sleep.

He realised that it had already started. Realised that, without his conscious knowledge or permission, his heart had already begun to make space for Draco, had begun to prepare itself to embrace the odd blonde man. And his heart, Harry decided before he fell into unconsciousness, had his full support.

To Be Continued…


	10. Wedded bliss? Part 1

Draco was in the fiery pits of hell. Literally! He could almost feel the red hot flames licking at the gruesome lime green chair he sat in, could almost smell it smouldering beneath him.

All around him, minions of the underworld dashed back and forth, all wearing varying expressions of evil delight, each delivering gifts for Beelzebub herself who stood before him on a plinth, surrounded by mirrors…wearing a wedding dress!

"What do you mean you will have to take it out? I haven't eaten in a decade! How could I have possibly put on weight, you stupid woman?!" Pansy snarled at the jittery seamstress who was currently trying to fasten the back of her gown. Draco was willing to bet his entire inheritance that the woman would not finish without crying.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity winced at the sound of Pansy's snarling voice. Well, everyone besides Draco who, of course, was quite used to his flatmate's temper.

"Pans', be careful sweet, you don't want to have a heart attack…You're due at the church in an hour." Draco said in a placating tone, his eye meeting Pansy's in one of the mirrors. The glare she sent him at the reminder would have made the poor seamstress wet herself, however, Draco flashed the irate bride-to-be an unaffected, winning smile.

"Like I'm going to turn up, Draco! She's just told me I'm obese!" Pansy all but shrieked, and the seamstress's face turned an amusing shade of green.

"No. No, I didn't. You're not…I just…" She stuttered, and Draco, sighing heavily, decided to rescue her.

"Pansy! No one said you're obese, you Drama Queen. And I'm guessing the reason the dress isn't doing up is because it's all gathered up at the side. Look!" He said pointing to a collection of material that was ruffled beneath Pansy's left arm. As soon as she tugged it free, the fabric settled into place and the line of pearl buttons lined up perfectly.

A collected sigh of relief issued from the staff in the surrounding area, and anyone who wasn't absolutely necessary to the fitting flew from the room before Pansy could find something else to screech about.

Seemingly oblivious to the panic she had caused during her tirade, Pansy breathed her own sigh of relief "Thank fuck for that, I thought I was going to have to cancel."

Draco simply closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering how one woman could be so exasperating. "Blaise is so lucky to be marrying such a lady." He announced, rolling his eyes when Pansy huffed.

He couldn't really blame her for being stressed out, though. After all, this was the biggest day of her life, and he understood her need for everything to be perfect. And if he was honest, he knew she was secretly loving every single minute of it all.

Draco, on the other hand, was hating every minute of it! His misery was only made worse as he had gradually been forced into helping with every tiny detail; apparently Pansy couldn't make a single decision by herself! Luckily, the worst of it was out of the way, and in 60 short minutes, Pansy would be married and Draco's ordeal would be over.

He just had to make it through the hour first…and he was beginning to think that was going to be impossible. Especially as he had a ton of his own problems to deal with. Namely, Harry!

Shifting in his seat, careful not to crease his suit trousers, Draco began to feel fidgety as he thought of the brunette.

The blonde's mobile phone, that was situated on the inside pocket of his pale grey tuxedo jacket, felt like a lead weight with the text message that Harry had sent him earlier that day saved in its memory. Who could believe that one message could make someone feel so overwhelmingly sick, and happy, and terrified, and happy again! One message. 'Lots of luck. P.S, Apparently the rings are quite important...' Draco studiously ignored the smiley face at the end.

Ever so subtly, he pulled at the silk neckerchief so he could breathe more easily, and with all the will-power of a saint, he managed not to throw up as he made sure the rings were still sat snugly beside his phone.

"What's up with you? I'm the one who's just had a 'fat scare'; you look like someone's just told you that you have to wear off-the-rack!" Pansy said, a shudder tearing through her at the prospect of wearing something generic and mass-produced. "What's wrong?"

Draco glanced at the woman, who was currently trying to line up the ruffles that flowed down the length of Pansy's gown whilst the irritated bride-to-be kept twisting to look at Draco, and shook his head. He had no intention of talking about his private life in front of the help, especially not on Pansy's wedding day.

Pansy, sensing his reluctance, looked down at the woman before her. "Erm…you!-" She said, tugging at the dress to get the woman's attention. "-Go away." Without even attempting to argue with Pansy, the woman scurried, leaving the two friends alone.

Climbing down from the plinth, Pansy shuffled towards Draco with half a gossamer factory trailing behind her, and perched precariously on another lurid green chair that was positioned beside his own.

Draco watched her, shaking his head incredulously. "How do you get away with treating people like that?" He asked distractedly.

Pansy simply smiled indulgently. "Because, my ignorant little friend, the cost of this dress is enough to wipe out third world debt! I can treat them however the hell I want." She laughed, apparently rather amused that Draco had even had to ask. "Anyway, what's going on?" She added, her face softening as she gazed at Draco's distracted expression.

For the past few weeks, the blonde had been growing more and more agitated, and Pansy had put it down to stress about the wedding - after all, Draco had made no secret that he detested the entire process - but now she had actually taken the time to ask, she could see it was probably more than that. A small ice cube of guilt slid into her stomach as she realised how wrapped up she had become in her own life, and she scolded herself for not keeping a closer eye on her skittish friend.

Draco frowned to himself "Pans', you have to be at the church in an hour. We don't have time for a cosy little chat." He whispered.

"So, we'll be fashionably late. Tell me what's going on." She demanded, reaching over and pushing a few wispy silver locks out of Draco's eyes.

"I've invited Harry." He said softly, his eyes flicking down to gaze at the ruffles billowing out around his friend. He didn't want to see her expression, didn't want to see the mixture of chagrin and excitement that was guaranteed to be there.

"You did what?" Pansy gasped after a few silent moments. Draco had been right not to look up, the mixture of emotions were evident enough in her voice. "Oh, my god! That's wonderful!" She exclaimed, her hands clapping together in delight.

Draco cringed and shook his head at her enthusiasm "Yeah, bloody wonderful." He muttered in irritation. Surely she could see the problems it would cause if Harry was to be at her wedding!

Pansy seemed to catch on to his mood, and dropped her hands back against the frothy material in her lap. "Did he say no? Is that why you're upset?" She asked delicately, silently scolding herself for the reaction. She should have realised that Draco's mood was hardly one of a person who had received an RSVP from the person he was crushing on.

"That's the problem…he said yes." Draco sighed, his silver eyes connecting with Pansy's chocolate brown. The panic that had been building inside of him since he had asked Harry had finally become too much, and even though he felt awful for dumping this on Pansy now, he couldn't keep it to himself any longer. "I'm not good enough for him Pans', I should never…" He trailed off, shaking his head as he felt his face crumple.

"Hey!" Pansy's voice lashed out, exasperatedly. Her perfectly manicured hand flew between them and gripped Draco's chin so he was forced to look her in the eye. The utter resignation in his silver orbs broke Pansy's heart. "I don't want to hear any more of that! I will not tolerate that negativity. Do you hear me?" She scolded.

Draco's entire body sagged, and Pansy - completely uncaring of her hair, dress and make-up - reached out and enveloped the blonde man in a hug.

Draco leaned wearily into the embrace, his head falling against the bear skin of Pansy's shoulder. He wished he didn't need this, didn't need to feel this type of comfort, didn't need to hear Pansy's murmured words of reassurance, but he did need it. And he hated it.

"You like him a lot, don't you." Pansy whispered, her hand rubbing soothing circles against his back. Her tone wasn't accusing or even questioning, it was merely a statement.

Draco clamped his eyes closed, wishing with everything he had that he could give the opposite answer to the one that was true, because he did like Harry…and he really wished he didn't. "Yes. And it terrifies me." he whispered, his fingers shaking as they clutched at the detailed bodice of Pansy's wedding gown.

"It's O.K. Shh, it's O.K." she soothed quietly as she felt Draco cling to her. She knew he wasn't crying, knew he would never allow himself to do something so weak, but she knew that his terror was real. She knew it all too well, had witnessed it on so many occasions over the years.

Of course Draco would be afraid of having feelings for Harry, especially after how absolutely destructive his past relationship had been.

At times like these, Pansy wanted nothing more than to see Theodore Nott at the bottom of a lake somewhere.

"Look, darling, you can't live your life in the shadow of what happened.-" She began, only for Draco to start shaking his head as though he were going to interrupt, however Pansy quickly continued. "- No, listen to me! I know you're afraid of putting yourself out there, but not every guy is going to be like Theo…" Pansy whispered, continuing to rub circles against his back. This time Draco cut her off.

"But I'm still me, aren't I?! That hasn't changed! You don't know Harry; you don't know how…bloody perfect he is! And I'm not perfect, I'm the complete bloody opposite! I can't…!" He pleaded, begging Pansy to see what he was trying to say, for her to realise how difficult it was for him.

The past fortnight had been sheer torture for Draco. The skipped heartbeats that had taken place inside Harry's flat had only increased as the days had passed, and as each one happened Draco sank lower into despair. Their almost kiss hadn't been mentioned by either of them. In fact, besides Harry telling Draco that he wouldn't be able to attend the actual wedding due to a pro-bono case he had taken on, but would be at the reception, the two men had remained entirely professional. If Draco hadn't spent 20 minutes in the car park at the base of Harry's apartment block trying to regulate his erratic breathing, he would have been convinced that he had imagined the entire thing.

He wished he had imagined it!

Pansy pulled away so she could, once again, peer into his eyes. "Draco, stop that. Yes, you are you, and that is all you need to be. You made a mistake, but you can't let it rule your life; you have to move on from it. Maybe, Harry is the answer to that. Maybe, if he knew…"

Draco shook his head defiantly and composed his face. "No! I don't want him to know…ever! I don't want him to think of me like that! Pansy, promise me you won't say anything, please?" Draco begged, panic washing over him like an icy breeze.

Pansy was torn. Part of her wanted to fight against Draco's perception of himself, wanted to scream at him that nothing that had happened in the past made him a bad person, that he didn't have to deny himself happiness because of his past mistakes. However, the other part - the part that knew how he would react if she did fight against him - wanted to take away the fear in his expression, wanted to reassure him.

"Of course I won't say anything. But sooner or later, Draco, you're going to realise that not everyone shares your views on perfection." She whispered, placing her hand affectionately against his cheek. The disbelief in the blonde man's eyes almost broke Pansy's heart, and she silently prayed that Harry would find a way of doing what she kept failing to do…make Draco believe!

"Right. -"She breathed suddenly, glancing at the clock. "We've got 45 minutes; let's see who can get through a bottle of champagne first." She laughed, expelling the tension that had settled over them.

Draco, who was still no where near being placated of his fears, reined his emotions back in and reminded himself that today was supposed to be about his best friend.

Glancing at the magnum of champagne that, now they were focused on it, was utterly enticing, Draco grinned and turned to face a smiling Pansy. "You're on!"

*******

"Don't we look dapper!" Hermione grinned as she walked into Harry's office, a pile of files in her hands. Harry, who had just finished pulling on his waistcoat, blushed at her approval, stuffing his battered medical bracelet beneath the cuff of his shirt as she set the folders down on his desk.

Straightening up and taking a proper look at Harry, Hermione smiled as she took in how dressed-up he was. A warm feeling spread through her veins when she realised Harry was probably going on a date.

"Is it too much?" The brunette man asked self-consciously, blinking his eyes as they adjusted to his contact lenses. He felt slightly exposed without his glasses, however he knew that his green eyes stood out a lot more when he didn't wear them, and even though the contacts were the most irritating creation known to man and he hated every minute he had them in, he was willing to put up with it…he wanted Draco to see him at his absolute best. It was all or nothing today.

"Well, I don't know Harry…you've brushed your hair! I think that's about as dapper as it gets!" Hermione laughed, pinching one of Harry's perfectly shaved cheeks.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Harry leant forward and kissed Hermione on the forehead. "Thanks so much!" He grumbled, however the smile he had been wearing since he had gotten up that morning was soon pulling at his lips again. "And I've done more than brush my hair…I've had it cut!" He laughed.

Hermione gasped in mock surprise, her hand flying up to her chest. "Christ, it must be love!" She teased, and the blush that coloured Harry's face at her remark was more than a little interesting. "So, who is he? Where are you going?" She asked, perching on the edge of Harry's desk, her arms crossing against her chest.

Harry, who couldn't help but check his watch to see how long he had to wait until he could leave, shrugged nonchalantly. "A wedding. Draco's friend's, actually."

Hermione's mouth fell open comically in obvious shock, and if the brunette wasn't so utterly nervous about meeting up with Draco, he would've found her reaction funny.

"You're dating Draco? Why am I only hearing this now? How long?" She asked excitedly, pointing an accusing finger at the nervous man. Harry quickly shook his head, a serious expression replacing the smile for a moment.

"We're not dating, it's nothing like that. He probably just realised what an unsociable loser I am and took pity on me. Stop jumping to conclusions." He said, pointing his own accusing finger straight back at her.

Harry was pretty certain that there was a lot more to it than the reason he gave Hermione, he was almost sure that Draco liked him just as much as he liked the blonde, however, he wasn't about to mention that to Hermione. Talk about jinxing something!

"Right, of course! And I'm actually a witch, excuse me whist I go and fetch my broomstick!" Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Well, no one said you had to believe me. Go on, bugger off and annoy someone else." Harry moaned, his frown completely ruined by his ever present smile.

The closer the hour hand of the clock crept towards 3pm, the faster Harry's heart slammed against his chest. He had never been so excited and nervous in his whole life, and he was sure that if he didn't leave soon he would probably have a heart attack.

He couldn't wait to see Draco, he literally ached to see the blonde in his best-man suit, see him smiling that warm smile that had lit up his face when he had spoken about his friends back in Harry's apartment.

He smiled to himself when he thought about the text message that he had sent the blonde earlier that day, and the smile morphed into a grin when he remembered Draco's reply. 'The rings? Yeah, that's a thought! Probably should have had Blaise buy some…'

Harry wondered if tonight would finally be their chance to progress a little beyond their current relationship. He hoped, quite a lot, that he would finally get the kiss he had been fantasising about for the past few weeks, finally get to taste Draco's mouth, feel his body under his hands…

With a frustrated sigh, Harry gathered the card and gift vouchers he had signed from Aurors rather than just himself, and deciding it was now or never, he made his way to his car.

He didn't get very far though, because Hermione dashed out of her office when she caught sight of him making his way through to the exit. "Harry, wait." She called, quickly falling into step with him when he continued his pace. As they entered the reception, that was empty bar Luna dreamily gazing out the window, Hermione pulled Harry to a stop. "Oi, will you stop for just a second, Christ!" She huffed, exasperatedly.

Stopping with a sigh, Harry turned and frowned at his bushy haired friend. "I'm a rush, 'Mione." He groaned. He really didn't want to hear any of her words of warning.

"Actually, I just thought you'd like this." She said softly, handing him a small black box with a silver ribbon. Harry took it from her, surprise washing over him, and when he flipped the lid open, a small smile pulled at his lips. "I picked it up ready for Christmas; I figured you could have it a bit early." She smiled as Harry fingered the black leather that made up a stylish wristband of a new medical bracelet. "It will fit better than your old one, so it won't keep escaping the confines of your cuff." She continued with a laugh, pulling the strap from the box and holding it so she could put it on his wrist for him. "See, it's more like a funky watch. It's already engraved." She added with a nod.

Harry felt slightly overwhelmed, and more than a little guilty. He had been expecting a lecture on eating before he had a drink, and making sure his sugar levels stayed safe, and using protection should he and Draco have sex…O.K, perhaps she wouldn't have said the last one, but Harry liked the sound of it. Anyway, now she had given him a gift and he felt wretched for expecting her to be all Mother hen-ish.

"Wow, thanks 'Mione. You didn't have to." He smiled as she wrestled his old battered bracelet out from under his cuff. Once she was done she smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Now, I feel mean for telling to bugger off." He confessed, pulling her into a hug.

"So you should!" She scolded with a grin. "Now, shouldn't you be at a wedding…!" She laughed as a fresh smile sprang to Harry's face, and he turned to leave.

"Thanks 'Mione, love you!" He called over his shoulder as he made his way out of the door, and raced to his car.

"Yeah, love is definitely involved here." Hermione nodded to herself as she watched Harry leave. As she thought about Draco, the man Harry was so excitedly rushing towards, she frowned to herself. Before now, she hadn't really thought much about the blonde man, besides that odd feeling of having met someone before and not being able to remember where, and now that she saw Harry was so…into Draco, she felt it was probably time she became a little more interested in the blonde herself.

A little background check couldn't hurt, right?

************

"How could you let her get drunk?" Blaise hissed at Draco as they made their way into the hotel where the wedding reception was being held. Pansy, who had spent the entire ceremony giggling, was currently stood between Draco and Blaise, holding each of their hands and swinging them merrily.

Draco, who'd had just as much champagne as Pansy, hiccupped softly as he shook his head at the irritated groom. "She's is drunk!-" Draco announced, a little more loudly than was appropriate. "-Drunk on you, Blaise! Utterly intoxicated on love! Have you ever seen such a brushing blide?"

Blaise shook his head exasperatedly at Draco, cursing himself for having the magnum of champagne delivered to Pansy's hotel suite. He watched as the blonde man stumbled a little, and quickly righted himself, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed.

"Draco, is Harry here yet? I'm dying to see him!" Pansy asked excitedly "I've been looking forward to it all day!"

Draco watched as Blaise turned incredulously to his bride. "We just got married, and the thing you're looking forward to the most is meeting Draco's boss?!" He asked, his eyes wide.

Pansy seemed to sober a little at Blaise' tone, and Draco inwardly sniggered as she began to backtrack. "No, of course not. Obviously, I'm more excited about you shagging my brains out tonight, but you know…Draco's boss! This is huge!" She said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, which was promptly stolen by Blaise.

"No!" He scolded, apparently putting his foot down. "And you -" He said, pointing at Draco "-Do not let me see you passing her any more alcohol!" and with a stern glare at the both of them, he turned to find some non-alcoholic beverages that would possibly sober up his new wife before the speeches.

Pansy and Draco both watched Blaise' departure with similar guilty expressions. "Wow, marriage soo doesn't suit him!" Draco scoffed, turning incredulous eyes to Pansy. "Better do as you're told, little woman!" He added in his most manly voice.

Pansy's laughter showed Draco exactly what she thought of being Blaise' 'little woman', and when she turned to look at him there was a mischievous glint in her eye. "Did you notice how he said 'Don't let me see you passing her any more alcohol'?" she asked, sounding a little more aware than she appeared. "Get me some champagne when he's not looking!" She giggled.

Draco, who was a little worse for wear, found her logic completely sound and grabbed the next tray of champagne that drifted passed them.

He reasoned that, letting Pansy have more to drink was probably the complete opposite to his best-man duties, and she was probably going to be furious with him later on, but the truth was - Draco needed to be drunk! It was the only way he was going to make it through the reception. He told himself this as he knocked back two glasses of Bucks Fizz, and glanced around for any sign of Harry.

His gaze landed on parents, who were standing with Mr and Mrs Parkinson, and he instantly looked away before they could turn and look at him. His mother had spoken with him at the church, had told him how handsome he looked and how much she missed him, and his father had pretended that his only son wasn't there.

The panic he had felt earlier slammed into him again as he thought of Harry being in the same room as his father, and he suppressed it with another glass of champagne.

************

The Hogsmeade Hotel was one of the most glamorous hotels Harry had ever seen. He had passed it every day since he had moved into his apartment in Hogsmeade, and had always admired it, though, he had never been inside. Even though he could afford to use the restaurant, or even one of the rooms, he never had because he just didn't feel 'posh' enough. As he walked into the lobby, he realised he was absolutely right in his reasoning for never coming inside the building - even the vase holding a bouquet of flowers in the centre of the lobby looked more posh than Harry did.

Noticing a sign reading 'Zabini wedding', Harry made his way toward it and found himself entering a fairytale ballroom. There was no other way to describe it! There were balloons, and ribbons, and flowers as far as the eye could see. Suited socialites and beautiful women wearing their best hats and dresses stood and sat in varying groups. A 5 tear wedding cake stood in the corner on the opposite side of the room with a million presents surrounding it, and the sound of a piano softly being played filled the room.

Still not moving from the door, Harry looked around, searching out Draco's unique blonde hair amongst the multitude of bland colours that would stand in contrast. His heart skipped when he clocked the tell-tale silvery-blonde glimmering under a light by the wedding cake, however he quickly found that it was a woman, and not Draco. Just as he was about to search again, the woman shifted slightly to reveal a man standing beside her, and Harry gasped slightly as took in the features that were so like Draco's, but not quite. This man was older, his face a little more sharp and severe.

Harry was willing to bet his entire share of Aurors that the couple he gazed at were Draco's parents. His mother was really very beautiful, and it was obvious that Draco inherited the softer, more feminine qualities from her. The way she held herself was so similar to that of her son; it was almost like he was looking at Draco himself. His father had a superior expression on his face, which Harry also found familiar, and he couldn't help but feel the same resentment for it that he did when Draco displayed it.

Tearing his eyes away from couple, Harry once again began looking for Draco, and when a billowing white cloud of gossamer caught his eye, Harry found the object of his search.

Draco stood beside one of the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen, including Fleur, and he blinked slightly as he gazed at her. No wonder Draco wasn't interested in Hermione's P.A, if he was living with the beauty beside him - and the woman was quite obviously his flatmate, Pansy - then of course he wasn't going to have his head turned by anyone else. Maybe he really was gay then!

He watched as Draco leaned in and said something to Pansy, and he felt his stomach flutter when they began laughing, Draco's eyes sparkling merrily in the process. Harry was more than a little turned on by the sight of Draco in his pale grey tuxedo and pearl coloured silk neckerchief. He had never looked more god-like!

Suddenly, Draco's eyes swept around the hall and settled for a moment on his parents across the room, an odd, hard expression passing over his face, dimming the light that had been sparkling in his eyes a few moments before. Harry watched as Draco hastily threw back a glass of champagne as he turned away, and his eyes finally met Harry's.

A small smile pulled at the corner of Harry's mouth as he watched the other man's eyes widen slightly and the glass in his hand fall to the ground. Raising his hand slightly, Harry made a loose, mock salute, a cheeky smile spreading across his face the longer Draco stared.

This was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for, and he found himself revelling in it. Feeling emboldened by the other man's shock, Harry began to pick himself across the room towards the blonde, his eyes never leaving Draco's as he approached.

"Hi." Harry smiled when he was close enough for the blonde to hear him "Very debonair." He commented, looking pointedly at Draco's attire, and the blonde seemed to thaw out from his shock.

"I could say the same." Draco slurred breathlessly, and Harry wondered if he had arrived just in time for Drunk-Draco. A larger smile than the one he already wore spread across Harry's face, although Draco seemingly didn't notice and continued. "Your hair looks different, like you've brushed it."

Harry laughed easily, shaking his head in amusement. "I do own a hairbrush, you know." he chuckled, wondering if, ordinarily, his hair really was that messy!

Pansy, hearing Harry's laughter, turned and centred her chocolate brown gaze on his face, and the nerves Draco had been suppressing with alcohol finally reared their ugly head. Oh, crap! Sure, Pansy had said she wouldn't say anything she shouldn't to his boss, but that was sober-Pansy speaking, drunk-Pansy was an entirely different kettle of fish!

"Are you Harry, Draco's boss?" She asked with undisguised awe, and Draco felt his face heat up as she stared at the brunette beside him. "Bloody hell, solicitors have gotten hot!" She announced when Harry nodded, her inebriated state rendering her shameless.

Draco felt rather than heard Harry's laughter. All he could hear in his ears was the deafening roar of his frantic heart.

"Thank you, although I pale in comparison - You look stunning. Congratulations -" Harry said indicating the reception going on around them. He held out the envelope containing the card and gift certificate, which Pansy took with a huge smile. "- we at Aurors wish you both the very best."

"Wow, thank you, that's very sweet!" Pansy grinned, leaning forward to hug Harry, whose eyes widened slightly at the contact.

When she pulled away, Draco noticed confusion in Harry's eyes as he gazed at Pansy's face. It was as though he were trying to work out a difficult math problem in his head. Pansy seemed to notice it, too, and her eyebrows rose in amusement.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" She asked with a teasing laugh, her own gaze turning puzzled.

Harry's face cleared instantly as he shook himself out of his trance. "No, no. I just…have we met before?" he replied, his forehead creasing in concentration again.

"Oh, well, I often get mistaken for Angelina Jolie, so maybe that's what it is." Pansy giggled, waving her hand as though she received comments like Harry's a lot. Harry simply chuckled, though his brow remained creased, apparently still trying to figure out if he had met her before or not.

Draco watched the exchange with stunned amazement. For the first time that day, he regretted the champagne as he desperately wanted to be able to talk but was highly aware of saying something stupid. His eyes danced over Harry's face, and his heart stuttered to a halt only to lurch frantically again when he realised that Harry wasn't wearing his glasses. And good lord, Harry's eyes were really green!

Those shocking eyes suddenly met Draco's, humour and something un-identifiable shimmering in them as Harry's smile morphed into a smirk. "Yes, they are, aren't they?" He remarked, whilst a snort could be heard coming from Pansy.

Draco felt heat rise to his face as he realised he had said his comment out loud, and he once again cursed the champagne.

"So, Harry, is Draco the best P.A ever, or what?" Pansy asked, obvious pride in her voice. Draco, rolling his eyes, wasn't fooled by her equally obvious attempt at interfering, though. He wondered if Harry also saw through her attempt to test the romantic waters between them.

Glancing at the green-eyed man, Draco found a warm, genuine smile lighting his face. "He really is an asset, pretty perfect, actually…puts the rest us to shame." he said gently, his eyes sliding to connect with Draco's for a fraction of a second before looking back at Pansy.

Draco didn't have a chance to analyse Harry's statement because he could practically feel an 'I-told-you-so' rippling off Pansy. "Perfect, you say? Did you hear that Draco? Perfect!" She said loudly, nudging the blonde pointedly.

Harry watched the interaction between Draco and his slightly tipsy friend, and got the feeling he was being excluded from an earlier conversation, as though Pansy were giving the punch line out loud whilst communicating the joke silently. Draco's answering embarrassed scowl made Harry even more curious.

Turning his back on Pansy, as though she might disappear if he was no longer looking at her, Draco smiled awkwardly at Harry. "Champagne?" He asked, his hand reaching out as a waiter passed, and snagging a glass, he thrust it into the brunette's hands.

"Thank you." Harry laughed, suppressing the urge to ask Draco if he was planning to get him drunk and have his wicked way with him, though, the thought really was quite appealing. "So, I'm guessing you fulfilled your best-man duties without a hitch? Like anyone would even doubt you." he laughed.

Draco sighed slightly, shaking his head. "Not quite. I managed to get the bride drunk before we even arrived at the church, and as a result of that she giggled through the entire ceremony. So, as you can see, I'm not exactly best-man material." he shrugged heavily.

Harry watched as Draco's eyes skittered over to the corner of the room where his parents stood and just as quickly skittered away again. Disappointment was practically radiating from the blonde, and Harry, as curious as ever, decided to start trying to uncover the mystery that was Draco Malfoy.

"No-one is best-man material, Draco. It's like being a Pledge for a Fraternity - you get hazed, and you still mess something up. Don't be too hard on yourself." Harry smiled, reassuringly. He found it odd that Draco might need reassurance, he'd always seemed so confident. "Anyway, I'm sure you didn't force the bottle down her throat, so you can only be partially responsible." He added with a chuckle.

Draco forced a watery smile to his face, and Harry was instantly aware that it was false. Deciding to move on to more pressing matters, Harry took the plunge. "So, I'm guessing those are your parents?" he asked, indicating with his chin when Draco looked puzzled.

The blonde man's silvery gaze didn't move from Harry's to look, knowing full well who the brunette was talking about, and the panic morphed into terror at the abrupt change to a subject he steadfastly wanted to avoid. "Yes." Draco replied, his tone quite obviously indicating that he wasn't comfortable with the subject. However, Harry was, apparently, going to ignore any subtle hints.

"The resemblance is remarkable." The brunette smiled, using the same expression Draco had used to describe the likeness between Harry and his own father. The slight widening of Draco's eyes assured him that the blonde remembered too. "Your mother is stunning, you share a lot of her qualities." he added.

Draco swallowed as he processed Harry's compliment, his heart rattling around his chest as it celebrated. "Thank you, I'm sure she'd be pleased to hear your assessment of her." Draco said stiffly, his tone still unrelentingly unwilling to continue the topic. Harry, however, continued to ignore it.

"For a moment before I found you, I thought you were stood with her. You are your father's image -" Harry said with a smile, forcing himself to carry on even though it was obvious he was making Draco uncomfortable. Preparing himself for Draco's haughty, superior alter-ego to make an appearance, he continued. " -I expect he is very proud of you, both of them."

Draco clamped his teeth together to stop himself from reacting to the other man's statement. The last thing he wanted to do was, as Harry had said 2 weeks prior, 'stick his nose in the air' because things became a little too personal. He figured that, if he didn't react, Harry wouldn't think too much into it. He couldn't, however, stop the bite that was in his tone as he replied. "They're just my parents, everybody has them, it's nothing special."

As soon as the words left Draco's mouth, he regretted them. He turned to gaze at Harry with wide, apologetic eyes, and his mouth worked furiously to make up for his disgraceful lack of tact. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't think…I…"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Harry murmured, finally taking the hint that he had gone too far in his ponderings, and an awkward silence settled over them.

Harry glanced around at the other guests in an attempt to distract himself from the tension that was rolling off Draco. The blonde bit his lip anxiously, scolding himself for his stupidity and his run-away mouth. He felt completely awful for his off-hand remark, and he found himself desperately wanting to remove the uneasy atmosphere.

Swiping another glass of champagne and knocking it back in one gulp, Draco sucked in a deep breath. "My father and I don't get along; we haven't spoken for a number of years, and I can't see that changing in the near-future. O.K." He said in a rush, knowing that if he had time to think about it he would change his mind.

Harry's vivid green eyes flashed to Draco's face, shock flittering across his face before he managed to compose himself again. Vaguely, Draco wondered how Harry could be such an incredible solicitor when his face was so easy to read. Didn't lawyers need to have a poker face?

"Oh, I'm sorry." Harry murmured, his tone genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean to pry. I've just always have this preconception that parents are wonderful and flawless; I forget that that's rarely the case. Forgive my inquisitiveness." he added, and frowned when he realised how oddly formal he had become.

Draco noticed it too, and he felt a twinge in his stomach knowing he was the cause of Harry's now stiff, chilly attitude.

Harry's eyes swept around the room and landed on Draco's parents, and curiosity like none he had ever felt before bubbled away inside of him. A million different scenarios as to why the relationship between the blonde and his father was so frosty ran through Harry's mind at a mile a minute: Was Draco's father disappointed by him for his choice of career? Did Draco resent his upbringing and blame the older man? Was his father a strong disciplinarian during Draco's childhood? Was he abusive? Or was it the opposite: Did his father neglect him? Did he put his career before his family? Did he send Draco to Durmstrang to have him out of the way and now the blonde held it against him?

Glancing at the blonde man, it was pretty obvious from his body language that he was utterly uncomfortable and that the conversation about his parents was one that was now closed. Harry decided, like he did when he had first met Draco and the subject of the huge gap in his working career had come up, that it was probably something the blonde would only discuss when he was completely ready. And now that he thought about it, Harry felt slightly disgusted with himself for pushing the other man into talking about something that was private and, obviously, very difficult.

"Erm…oh, how is the pro-bono case going? Did you find the file alright?" Draco asked awkwardly after a stretch of minutes, and Harry inwardly cursed that the blonde was resorting to talking about work to fill the silence. This was so not how Harry wanted things to turn out!

"Yes, thank you. And, it's a pretty interesting case, actually. The client, Mr Lupin, is seeking compensation for unfair dismissal due to a disability. It'll settle out of court, not before I get him a decent settlement, though." Harry replied with a confident nod.

Draco's answering smile wasn't one of the full on, butterfly inducing ones that usually took Harry's breath away, however, it was a smile and he wasn't going to take it for granted. Suddenly a thought occurred to him that could possibly remove the tension between them completely. A thought that had been forming in Harry's mind for a little while now, a thought that might just give Draco the confidence that he surprisingly seemed to lack.

"So, I was thinking, seeing as you work full-time at Aurors, if law is something you could be interested in." Harry commented, nonchalantly, his eyes scrutinizing the blonde man's face.

Draco frowned, his gaze boring into Harry's with a slight intensity. "I don't understand what you mean." he murmured softly.

Clearing his throat, Harry tried to work out the best way to word his reply. He had a feeling he'd have to really sell his idea to the blonde man. "Well, you are really good at your job, I wasn't lying earlier, and you seem to have a real grasp of the law, from what I've observed. I was just wondering if perhaps law would be a career option that you might like to explore. You could do an apprenticeship at Aurors whilst you get the necessary qualifications, we'd be more than happy to help with…"

Draco finally seemed to grasp what Harry was saying, and rather than any other expression Harry might've expected - gratitude, joy, surprise, disbelief - he was taken aback when the blonde actually looked horrified by the idea of becoming a solicitor. In fact it was beyond horror; it was down-right alarm!

"I told you before, I don't want status." the blonde breathed, his mouth mashing together in a hard line. Harry scrambled for a moment, the harshness of Draco's answer completely throwing him. He could feel how wide his eyes were, how utterly perplexed his expression must be, but he couldn't seem to gather any type of composure. "I just…I'm sorry, I just thought - well, you have so much potential - I don't understand why-"

"What? Why I'm just some lowly secretary! Maybe I'm not like you, Harry, maybe I like just being a P.A, did you think of that?" Draco snapped, his face morphing into the stern mask that he had inherited from his father. His silver eyes were incredulous, as though Harry had just told him he thought he should be a bin-man rather than a solicitor.

The brunette floundered. He was completely mystified by the blonde's behaviour, and he had no idea how to salvage any type of sense from the conversation. He had no clue as to the other man's reaction, and for the first time since meeting him, Harry was suspicious of Draco. Yes, he knew the blonde man hid a lot about himself and Harry had been curious, but now he couldn't help but be wary of Draco. What was he hiding…and how bad was it?

Draco shifted his gaze from Harry's face; acutely aware that he had just monumentality wrecked any chance of the afternoon being pleasant, and his eyes landed on Pansy and Blaise who were making their way towards the head table. With a sigh, knowing that he would have to wait a while before he could try and make any kind of peace with the brunette in front of him, Draco cleared his throat and caught Harry's attention.

"Look, I'm supposed to-" He indicated with his hand the head table and Harry nodded in response, welcoming a breather from the tension that seemed to be dogging them.

"Sure, go ahead." He tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace, and he didn't miss the way Draco shook his head to himself as he walked away. Harry watched, with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, as the blonde met his friends and began conversing; rather harshly it appeared, with Pansy.

Harry sipped at his champagne and glanced around the hall. On the other side he spied a pair of French doors leading onto a patio, and with the need to get some fresh air, Harry made his way over to them. He had no desire to listen to speeches when he had the mystery of Draco swirling around his head, and he figured that perhaps a little distance would give him a chance to work out why Draco had so suddenly turned on him.

The grounds of the hotel were really very pretty with sprawling lawns and colourful flowers. A stairway of stone steps led from the patio doors to a huge white gazebo, which twinkled with a thousand fairy lights even though it was still mid-afternoon. It was chilly outside, given that it was almost December, but every detail had obviously been given the utmost attention as heaters dotted around gave it the warm feeling of summer.

It was pretty much deserted outside, with most guests settling to hear the speeches inside, and only a few stragglers remaining in the gardens having sneaky cigarettes and mobile phone conversations.

Sinking down upon the topmost stone step, Harry leant against the pillar holding an urn of beautifully smelling flowers, and sighed with frustration. For the first time since he had walked into the wedding he wondered what the hell he was doing there.

"What reason does a guy as gorgeous as you have to be sighing?" A man's voice asked from behind him.

Harry turned his head and found that he had to crane his neck to be able to look at the speaker. From Harry's position on the ground the guy looked about 7ft tall!

The man sank down beside Harry, a soft smile pulling at his lips. The first thing that struck Harry was how incredibly handsome he was. His cropped hair and obvious muscular physique almost giving him the look of someone in the military, but his face was open and friendly.

Once they were level with one another, Harry realised the man wasn't as tall as he initially thought, but he was a head taller than Harry's own 5'8 frame, and he couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

Realising he should probably respond to the comment that had been made, but having no idea how to, Harry laughed nervously. "Got me." He said with a shrug.

The man laughed, the sound light and breezy, and Harry found himself smiling in response.

"Well, whatever the reason, I think we can find a way to rectify it." The man said with a wink. "So, how come you're not inside enjoying the festivities?" he added curiously, his brown eyes seemingly drinking in the sight of Harry before him.

Harry glanced back at the doors where the wedding was still in full swing and sighed again. "I felt a bit out of place. Besides, the bride and groom are friends of a friend, so…" He added with a shrug.

"Ah, snooze fest then? Yeah, god knows why rich people feel the need to make such a show. Whatever happened to a registry office and then a piss-up at the pub?" The man laughed in amusement .

Harry felt himself relax further as he listened to the other man's soft, warm voice, and the things he was saying were completely true - Harry probably would feel better if he were sat in a beer-garden after some shot-gun wedding ceremony. "Yeah, I know, right." He smiled back, comfortably.

"You know what I usually love about weddings? The punch-up. I bet they don't have a punch-up here. So boringly upper-class." The man said, his expression clearly disappointed, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Now that he actually looked at the stranger's appearance - his rugged, unshaven face, his casual combat jeans and close fitting white t-shirt - Harry realised that the man wasn't actually involved with the wedding at all, and he felt even more comfortable than he did before.

"Yes, very Eastenders. I bet the bride's sister doesn't run in and announce she's pregnant with the groom's baby, either." Harry chuckled, and he felt slightly light-headed when the other man joined in.

"Definitely." He said with a shake of his cropped-haired head. "I think we should just make a run for it, before we end up as boring as all of them in there." He added with a laugh, indicating with his head the guests inside the hotel.

Harry jumped as his phone began vibrating in his pocket, and when he glanced at the call-I.D he groaned at the sight of Hermione's name. He really didn't want to talk to her at the moment, especially when he knew she would probably question him on how things were going with Draco. What was he supposed to say? 'Oh, he lost his temper when I tried to give him some career advice.' No thanks!

Switching the phone off altogether and dumping it back inside his pocket, Harry turned to the man beside him with an apologetic expression. "Sorry about that."

"It's cool. Unless it was your boyfriend…" The man said with a teasing smile "in which case we can just keep him switched off." he added, nodding towards Harry's pocket which housed his phone.

The brunette laughed nervously again, a distant part of his mind impressed that the other man knew instantly that he was gay - but then again impressed was a loose term, Harry was more jealous due to the fact his own gaydar was completely useless! - and he shook his head. "No, it was a colleague of mine. She can be persistent, that's why I switched it off." he explained.

"Ah. Best keep her switched off, too, then."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he no idea what the man's name was, and he felt completely rude for not introducing himself. "I'm Harry, by the way." He murmured, holding his hand out.

The man grasped a hold of it, his grip firm but the skin of his palm surprisingly soft, and he held it for a few moments, his twinkling eyes holding Harry's almost hypnotically. The brunette actually felt an odd stirring in his stomach which felt wrong for the person he was looking at. That feeling was generally reserved for Draco.

"Nice to meet you, Harry by the way." The man smirked. "I'm Theo."

To Be Continued…


	11. Wedded bliss? Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Depictions of violence

"Calm down! It can't honestly be that bad." Pansy slurred as she fell into her seat behind the head table. Draco had just caught her up on the uneasy conversation he'd had with Harry, and she couldn't help but be exasperated with him for biting the brunette's head off…he'd only been alone with him for 10 minutes!

"You didn't see his face! I swear, he's gone. Good job, the further he gets from me the better it is for him." Draco murmured, going against his better judgement and throwing back another glass of champagne. He'd never felt so completely disappointed as he had been walking away from Harry. But what other choice did he have? He had to make Harry see that he wasn't 'perfect', that he was the absolute opposite. A failure and a life-wrecker.

Pansy sighed heavily, her head dropping to hit the table softly. "Your perception of yourself drives me nuts!" She whined.

"Pansy, dear, do try to look as though you're happy you've married me." Blaise sulked from Pansy's other side. His eyes met Draco's for a moment, the blonde feeling entirely guilty for ruining his friend's day, and he shook his head woefully. "Don't worry, Draco. I've always known she was a lush." Blaise added, the corner of his mouth pulling into a reluctant smile. Though his words were less than complimentary to his bride, Draco could see the absolute adoration sparkling in his dark eyes, and he felt his stomach twist with envy.

How very easy it was for Pansy and Blaise to be together. It was almost effortless. And it wasn't fair.

"Blaise, would you rather I look happy or remain conscious? Because at the moment I'm focusing on staying awake!" Pansy huffed, lifting her head back up off the table and reaching for a glass of champagne.

"No!" Blaise growled, swiping the flute from her hand and drinking from it himself. "Just concentrate on staying awake, you little wino."

Draco ignored his friends as they began bickering, and his gaze swept around the hall, searching out Harry in the crowd. He couldn't find him, and he was sure he'd spot him if he was still there. His heart sank as it realised the brunette had taken off, that he had left because Draco was an arse!

The speeches began and tittering laughter erupted every few minutes. Draco tried his best to remain focused on the reception taking place around him - even if Pansy was practically slumped against her chair, fighting against her closing eyelids - but he just couldn't gather enough attention. All he could think about was Harry.

It was hardly difficult to miss Blaise' declining patience, though. Twice he had nudged his wife, and twice he had been told to 'fuck off'. The poor man was single-handedly keeping the reception from turning into an utter disaster, while his wife - who had invited far too many people, and spent far too much money - drank herself into a stupor.

"Well, thank you very much, Mrs Zabini -" Blaise hissed once the guests fell back into a rhythm of eating, drinking and dancing, completely oblivious now to the head table, "Your assistance was most appreciated! I'm sure your mother was so proud when you announced that you were, quote 'fucking bored.'"

Draco winced at the furious sarcasm in Blaise' tone of voice, and the ever present guilt for letting Pansy drink so much struck again. 'Sorry' he mouthed to the desolate looking groom.

Pansy, who had been staring off into space, glanced at her husband, her gaze scornful. "I am not your little woman, Blaise!" She hissed, causing the man to look completely confused. Draco was surprised to feel a smirk pull at his mouth - surprised because he had done nothing but sulk for the entire reception - as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Pansy earlier.

"You know what?" Blaise hissed, standing abruptly. "I'm going for a fag!" and pulling a packet of cigarettes from his inside pocket, Blaise swept away towards the gardens outside the hotel, with a cry of 'You told me you'd quit!' following him.

**************

Harry had quite forgotten where he was. He had spent the past God knows how long laughing with Theo, even though he was sure that he should be inside pretending to enjoy the wedding reception. However, Draco's mood had completely thrown him, and feeling no closer to deciphering it or knowing how to combat it, he decided to just wait it out. Besides, the blonde was obviously busy fulfilling his best-man duties, and Harry really was having fun outside.

Theo was the most random person Harry had ever met. He seemed to chat about the most unimportant things, yet he made every word sound completely funny. Even when he had regaled Harry with a story about his grandmother's funeral, the brunette had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Theo explained how he had fallen into a freshly dug grave and had to be pulled free by a creepy grave-digger.

The two men had seemed to come to a silent agreement to keep things light, to not bog down the easy conversation with talk of their private lives. In fact, the most they had divulged that could be considered remotely personal was their names.

It was easy to forget the world continuing around him whilst the handsome man across from him spoke, but Harry hadn't forgotten Draco. The blonde still floated on the edges of Harry's subconscious, threatening to drive him mad. He was sure he had heard Theo mention someone named Dray, but Harry couldn't be sure whether it was just his brain desperately trying to find links to the blonde.

"Ah, sweet nicotine, help me through this traumatic day!" A man's deep voice laughed from behind them after an hour or so of light banter.

Turning slightly, Harry spotted a fairly good looking man leaning against the waist high stone wall that lined the patio, his eyes closing with pleasure as he lit the cigarette at his lips, breathing in deeply and sighing as he released it.

He noticed with a jolt that the man was dressed the same as Draco, though the light grey tuxedo somehow managed to look better on the blonde man's exquisite frame. Nevertheless, the man was obviously part of the wedding party, and considering he was outside, Harry guessed that the main part of the reception was over with. Now that he thought about it, the music had started again, and talking from inside the doors was louder than before. With his stomach clenching, Harry wondered where Draco was and whether he was looking for him or had decided to just pretend that he hadn't invited Harry at all.

He still had no idea what to say to the blonde when they eventually saw each other again, how to broach a conversation that wouldn't lead to him to him biting Harry's head off again. It irritated Harry that he couldn't work the blonde man out, that he couldn't get a straight forward, solid view of why Draco acted the way he did. The worst part was, it made Harry all the more interested, made him want to figure out the fickle way Draco's mind worked, the odd things he would let slip and the life-time of secrets he kept so closely guarded. He could feel the blonde trying to push him away, trying to keep the bubble he lived in from bursting as Harry hovered on the outside, looking for a way in. But for some reason, some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason, Harry couldn't back off. It was like a magnet pulling him closer, refusing to let go. Not that he wanted to let go, of course, but still he felt like something higher, some divine guardian angel with sadistic tendencies, was forcing him towards the blonde who was steadfastly refusing Harry's advances.

With a mental sigh, knowing that the best way to confront something was head-on, Harry decided to go and find Draco and try and find out what was going on. If the worst came to the worst and Draco backed off again…well, Harry would just have to drag him in a dark corner and make him see reason!

Feeling slightly cheered by the idea, he glanced at Theo, ready to say goodbye to the stranger, and he felt his eyebrows rise at the sight of the smirk plastered across his face. Harry was momentarily confused by it, wondering if he had said his ponderings aloud and the other man was amused, but then he noticed how Theo's head was slightly inclined to the left as though he were listening to the man behind them, his eyes looking at a point passed Harry's head as he concentrated. The smirk was all wrong. It looked completely alien after all the soft smiles and cheeky grins he had used during their easy conversation, and when he began to speak, his tone was different, harder and mocking, and unease settled over Harry as he realised the words were not directed at him.

"I could see why marrying pug-nosed Parkinson would be a traumatic experience, Zabini," Theo exclaimed, turning slowly and focusing on the man behind them. Harry's mouth dropped open at the remark, and even more so when he realised the other guy was the groom and Draco's best friend. However, his shock was quickly over-shadowed by unease again as Theo rose and faced the other man, and Harry was once again struck by how tall he was, and the way he held himself was almost menacing. "And has no-one ever told you, Blaise…smoking is bad for your heart! Surely you've had that drummed into you!" Theo said, his lip curling distastefully.

Blaise, who had had been motionless with apparent shock until now, flung the barely used cigarette to the ground, his expression slowly morphing into rage as he glared at Theo.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Blaise said in a low, dangerous voice. The very next moment he was lurching towards Theo, almost tumbling over Harry who was still sat on the top step. Side-stepping him, Blaise didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a fistful of Theo's shirt and slammed him against the stone urn full of flowers at the top of the steps, sending soil and petals showering over them. "I will kill you if you…"

Harry jumped up as soon as Blaise had swept down upon them, and he tried to pull him away with little success; he didn't even seem to realise Harry was there.

"Now, now, Blaise, play nice." Theo smirked, "We wouldn't want to cause a scene and upset the control freak, oh I mean your wife." 

Blaise' growled loudly, pulling Theo forward and slamming him once again into the stone urn, earning a wince from the trapped man. With a satisfied leer, Blaise' fist connected with Theo's ribs. "You're one to talk, you piece of fucking filth!" He hissed angrily, the restraining hand that clutched Theo's shirt shaking with obvious fury.

Harry once again tried to pull him away, because even though Theo looked as though he could easily take Blaise out, he didn't even appear to be trying to throw him off.

Harry's shocked outburst of 'Can we sort this out without violence?' fell on deaf ears as the two men had continued to ignore him, and he struggled to find a way of resolving the situation without it getting out of hand.

"I think we're forgetting who controlled who, Zabini," Theo murmured, and Blaise' hand flew out of nowhere, connecting with Theo's jaw palm side up and slamming his head against the flower pot, effectively pinning his head to it.

"He did everything for you; he wrecked his entire life for you!" Blaise bellowed, his mouth inches from Theo's ear. Harry glanced quickly at the doors that led to the reception hall in the hope that someone would know what the hell to do. He wondered if he should fetch Draco to sort out his deranged friend, but he really didn't want to put the blonde man in the middle of it if it was going to kick off. Harry would probably murder one of them if they, even unintentionally, hurt Draco.

"Look, I think you should calm down before someone notices." Harry said quickly as the two men glared at each other.

Blaise seemed to finally realise Harry was there, but when he turned his head to face him, his dark brown eyes were fierce, "Look, mate, I don't know who the fuck you are, but I suggest you get as far away from this-" He snarled, shoving Theo again, "-as you can, 'cause the last guy who went near him is still paying for it!"

Harry's eyes flickered over Blaise' face, searching out any sign of a lie, and found none. Theo merely laughed, clearly amused as he muttered "Oh, poor little rich boy"

Incensed, Blaise cracked Theo's head against the urn, and this time the smirking man cried out in pain at the ominous thud, and blood instantly began to trickle down from his forehead and onto his white t-shirt.

"He lost everything-" Blaise began to yell, but Theo cut him off, his voice suddenly just as enraged.

"What? He lost a job, boo-fucking-hoo! I'm sure old Lucius will get over it…someday!" He snarled, a vicious smile pulling at his mouth as he still resisted fighting Blaise off.

"A job? He didn't work in a shop, Nott! He was going places, he had a career and you fucking wrecked it!" Blaise' anger was increasing, and Harry was sure that at any moment the two men would begin fighting. Harry, who had never been in a fight in his entire life and was pretty sure that he hit like a girl, panicked. Just as he was about to call out for help, a mass of white exited the patio doors.

************

Pansy swept into the gardens in a cloud of white froth, her expression enraged as she hunted Blaise mid-cigarette. Draco, who had tried to calm her down and keep her occupied long enough for Blaise to have finished with his dirty little habit, prepared himself for her shrieking as he limped behind her, careful to avoid her feet in case they swung out and kicked him in the shin again.

When Pansy abruptly stopped just outside the doors to the sprawling hotel grounds, Draco staggered, the unexpected stop almost sending him tumbling into her, and he had to grip her waist in order to keep them both upright.

It took him a few moments to work out what the cause for Pansy's rigid, defensive body language was, and as his eyes swept over Harry's shocked face, Draco frowned. Blaise' yelling voice punctuated the peaceful gardens, and Draco's frown deepened as he tried to connect the two things. Was Blaise yelling at Harry? He couldn't see past the vast amounts of chestnut hair and fluffy veil spilling out around Pansy's head to even see Blaise.

Suddenly her hand swung behind her and locked around Draco's wrist as though holding him back, and her grip was painfully tight. Draco could only think of one other time she had clung so fiercely to him, and that was a feat in itself because he wasn't even awake at the time.

She tried to step backwards, pushing the blonde with her bulky dress in the process, but he wasn't moving. There was no way he was going back inside when Blaise was yelling at Harry.

"Get back inside, Pansy, now!" Blaise' voice whipped out, absolute fury in his tone. Draco paled, he had never heard his friend speak that way to his new-wife, and frankly he didn't like it one bit.

He expected Pansy to retort, so he was more than surprised when she spun around in a blur of gossamer and began trying to push him back into the hotel.

"Draco, move, get inside. Please." She whispered frantically, her eyes wide with fear. Her hands shook as she shoved against him, and Draco felt an overwhelming sense that he should be trying to protect Harry.

"No, why is he yelling at Harry? What's going on?" Draco asked, and he was shocked to hear his voice trembling. Pansy's panic affecting him more than he thought possible.

"Please." Pansy begged louder, her tone now saturated with the fear from her expression.

For a fraction of a second, Draco was going to comply, if only to calm down his frantic friend. For a fraction of a second, the world was still a relatively safe place.

For a fraction of a second…until he spoke.

"Hello, Dray. Long time, no see." The purring voice of his past greeted, the same amount of delicate caress in its tone as the last time it had been directed solely at the blonde.

Harry watched as Pansy tried to push Draco back inside the hotel, his mind suddenly making the connection. Theo had been speaking about Draco before, Blaise and he had been arguing about Draco!

But wait, what had they said? 'He had a career… he was going places…he'd lost everything' What were they talking about, why had Draco lost it, what the fuck was going on?!

The sound of Pansy's voice wrenched Harry's mind back to the situation, and the terror in her tone was so scarily familiar that Harry literally cringed at the sound of it. She was truly frightened, and yet Harry had no idea what the cause of it was. O.K, so her new husband had a man, who was quite obviously not his friend, pinned up against a flower urn with blood spilling down his face, but to be so afraid didn't seem to fit properly, it wasn't like Blaise was damaged in any way.

When Theo had spoken, directing his words at Draco, his tone of voice had changed from aggressive and mocking to heavy and sensual in the space of a sentence, and rather than be turned on by it, Harry was wary of it. It sounded dangerous.

The bewilderment that had marred Draco's face drained instantly at the sound, as though someone had pulled a plug from somewhere deep inside of him and the life was slowly seeping away from his body. The confusion in his silver eyes morphed into cold, hard panic as they become impossibly wide.

Draco looked grey, and the sight frightened Harry. He didn't like seeing the blonde that way, it turned the blood in Harry's veins to ice and the flicker of a memory stabbed at his sub-conscious, causing vomit to rise up from his stomach and seer his throat with acid.

He cringed as Pansy's voice lashed out, pulling him back to the present. "Please. Please." she begged, ramming her hands against Draco's chest as she demanded his focus. His wide, unfocused eyes stared straight through her though, his face rigid with fear.

Blaise' hands flexed as though he dearly wished they were around Theo's throat rather than just clutching at the front of his t-shirt, and he once again shoved the now smirking man even harder against the stone urn. "You can leave him the fuck alone! It's about time I gave you the kicking you deserve!" He growled, his face inches from Theo's, a look of utter contempt curling his lip.

Harry couldn't move, had no idea what to do. On the one hand he had Theo being thoroughly man-handled by Blaise for a reason Harry couldn't quite grasp, but on the other hand he had Draco looking as though he were about to die of fright.

Pansy's panic-filled voice grew louder as she begged Draco to go inside, and an unexplained chill tingled down Harry's spine. Her terror had the oddest effect on him. It seemed to goad him, spur him into action, and he crossed the patio in a few strides and stood beside Pansy, who was still trying to get through to an unresponsive Draco.

"Please. Please, Draco, I'm afraid, please just go inside." She was begging, shaking the blonde desperately, anxiety practically a force-field around her as guests just inside the doors began to realise that something was amiss.

"Draco," Harry whispered, reaching across to place a comforting hand on the crook of Draco's elbow. The blonde instantly came to life, lurching away from the touch that Harry was trying to bestow, his face hard, the snooty façade that Harry despised snapping into place.

"I'm fine," He spat, his voice sounding slightly strangled. He reached up and rubbed the pale, snowy skin of his throat, pulling savagely at the neckerchief in an attempt to loosen it. "Pansy, shut up," He growled, glaring at her as she continued her mantra of 'Please, get inside'. "My parents are in there!" He added as though it would convince her to stop. The odd thing was that it did, her mouth snapped closed, and only her wide, chocolate brown eyes continued to show her panic.

Harry desperately wanted to ask what was going on, why everyone was so panicked, and why Draco had just so completely and utterly rebuffed his touch, but he knew now definitely wasn't the time.

"I just want five minutes, Dray, that's it." Theo's voice called across the patio, and the sound of him being slammed against the urn again thudded in the silence.

Pansy whimpered as she gazed at Draco's face, the sound of Blaise' harsh voice declaring "Like he is going to give you the time of day after what you-"

"Blaise, stop!" Draco interrupted, his wide eyes centred on Harry's face, panic swirling in his steely grey orbs. He seemed to be appraising Harry's face, searching out something in his expression. The brunette wasn't sure what he was looking for, but the slight relieved sag of the blonde man's shoulders told Harry that Draco had obviously found what he was looking for.

"Draco, just get inside, I can handle this." Blaise ordered, his hand still holding Theo's face against the urn like a vice. The detained man struggled for the first time, and Harry turned to watch the small scuffle begin.

"Dray, please, look at me. He's been hitting me and I haven't touched him, have I, Harry?!" He pleaded, pushing against Blaise half-heartedly. He seemed to be trying his best to stop from appearing aggressive, though Harry could tell from his expression that it was costing him a lot of effort.

An odd strangled noise demanded Harry's attention, and as he turned to look at Draco he found the other man staring at him with unconcealed accusation in his eyes. "What?" he mouthed, silently.

"Harry?" Blaise' voice murmured, disbelief in his tone. "As in…?"

Draco finally allowed Pansy to push him back through the doors, but not before his hand swung out and clasped Harry's wrist, holding it in a death grip. The plea in his eyes tore through the brunette like a serrated knife, and he didn't think twice about following the blonde man. He already knew that he would follow Draco anywhere.

The crowded reception passed in a blur as Harry kept his eyes fixed on Draco, and as they were ushered into the lobby of the hotel, Pansy abruptly jerked them towards the lifts, shoving them inside as soon as they opened. Slamming her perfectly manicured finger against the button for the appropriate floor, the doors slid shut instantly, and the frazzled bride turned on Draco.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" She asked quickly, her hands fluttering over Draco as though looking for a visible wound. His face was still a ghostly white, his grey eyes hidden from view behind his lilac-y eyelids.

"How do you know him?" He asked, his voice, barely above a whisper, trembling. Harry's mouth went completely dry, and as he saw how utterly terrible the blonde man looked he whole-heartedly regretted speaking to the stranger in the gardens.

"I don't, he just started speaking to me. I'm sorry, is everything alright?" He asked softly, but his request for information was unanswered as the doors slid open and Pansy dashed them through a hall, apparently heading towards a room. Halting at a random door, Pansy turned toward Draco and held her hand out. The blonde man seemed completely oblivious to what was happening, his eyes staring at the door expectedly, and with a sigh Pansy searched his jacket pockets and eventually found the key-card she was looking for.

As soon as the door was open, Draco walked in, releasing Harry's arm in the process and headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Pansy hurriedly locked the main door and leant against it with a shaky sigh. Harry stood just inside the room, awkwardly, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. The distinct sound of Draco throwing up filled the tense silence, and the brunette's stomach clenched. "Is he alright?" He asked softly, glancing quickly at the beautiful woman slumped opposite him and back to the bathroom door.

He could feel Pansy's eyes on his face, her stare speculative. Even in her panicked state she seemed to contemplate her answer. "He will be." She said simply, "What happened before we came out there?"

"Theo and I were talking-" Harry muttered, noting the way Pansy hissed when he said Theo's name, "-and Blaise came out and started attacking him." He stumbled over Blaise' name, unsure whether he said it properly. Pansy seemed unhappy with his answer.

"No, what was said?" She asked, bluntly, "What did you hear?" She added more precisely.

Harry met her eyes, cautiously. "They were arguing about someone, Blaise said that this person had ruined his life because of Theo - that he'd had a career and had lost it all because of him…they were talking about Draco, weren't they." He said, the last part a statement rather than a question.

Pansy closed her eyes, her face the picture of devastation. "Yes. They were." She whispered, her eyes opening and landing on the bathroom door. Her features shifted, her brow creasing, her mouth tightening. She seemed to be fighting with herself, her expression abruptly torn as she contemplated the door. With a sigh, she lurched forward, grabbing hold of Harry's arm and dragging him away from the bathroom door and into the main part of the room. When she spoke her voice was low and hurried, her eyes skirting to the bathroom door, conspiratorially. "Look, I made a promise this morning and I really want to keep it…but," She cut herself off, her perfectly straight white teeth nibbling at her full bottom lip.

Harry waited for her to continue, unconsciously leaning forward with curiosity. She seemed uncertain whether to continue, glancing back and forth between Harry and the door that concealed the blonde man. After a stretch of frustratingly silent moments, with only the sound of Draco's violent heaving punctuating the air, Harry spoke. "He's afraid." He stated, only realising how true the words were once he had spoken them. Draco was afraid…but why?

Pansy's startling chocolate brown eyes centred on his face again, and he once again had that strange feeling that he had met her before. She gazed into his emerald eyes for a moment, searching for something. "You care about him, don't you?" She whispered, a definite plea in her voice. She reached forward and clasped the top of his arm, her fingers clutching painfully tight that he fought the urge to wince.

She waited for an answer; her grip tightening the longer Harry took. Studying her face, he knew that she knew he cared for Draco, could see how much he cared. "Yes. Very much." He whispered, "Too much."

The sound of the toilet flushing startled them, and Pansy seemed to make a snap decision. Pulling Harry forward so that her lips were practically brushing his skin, she softly whispered in his ear, her voice as pleading as it had been when she had begged Draco to leave the gardens.

As the bathroom door opened, Pansy stepped away from Harry and approached the deathly white Draco, her face perfectly smooth. Harry stared at her as she walked away, his own face a little slower at composing itself.

Draco only had eyes for the brunette, though, and he noticed the shock in his emerald eyes. Pansy's hands fluttered over the blonde man's face again, brushing back his hair. "How are you, sweetie? Do you want to leave, I'll get a car right now-" She promised.

Harry, sensing a chance to be alone with Draco, jumped at the opportunity. "I can take you home, Draco." He tried to smile, careful not to step forward in case Draco's fear presented itself again. Harry would make sure he did everything in his power to never invoke this kind of fear from the man before him. He would, if the blonde would ever let him, spend his entire life protecting Draco from anything that would cause him this type of anxiety. "Whatever you want." He added softly.

Although he looked as though he may begin throwing-up again at any moment, Draco's eyes brightened by the tiniest fraction and he swallowed with a little difficulty. He stared at Harry's face intently, apparently searching for something unknown in his expression, just as Pansy had done before. Draco's gaze, however, was more intense, more desperate. Without even glancing at his friend, who was looking as though she wasn't entirely comfortable with Harry's offer, Draco nodded. "Thank you, Harry." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

The journey to the car was just as hurried as the one to the suite had been, with Pansy guiding them through the hotel, apparently desperate to have Draco as far away from Theo as possible. When they got to car, Pansy threw her arms around the blonde man, whispering reassurances in his ear at a mile a minute. Harry heard her offer to go home with him, only for Draco to decline. The blonde declared, with a false attempt a bravado, that he was happy to finally be rid of her now that she and Blaise would be living together, and that he was looking forward to having two weeks off from her nagging whilst she was on her honeymoon. Pansy wasn't fooled at all by her friend, her concerned frown making that quite clear, and Harry had a feeling he should probably get Draco away from her before she declared she was cancelling to stay with him.

If Draco needed anyone…well, Harry would be there in a heartbeat.

After a tearful goodbye from the shaken bride, Draco climbed in Harry's car and the brunette swiftly pulled out of the car-park, checking his mirrors for any sign of Theo. It was strange how quickly the friendly stranger became the enemy to Harry once he saw how much he frightened Draco. He was still desperately curious to know the exact details of what Blaise and Theo's arguing had been, why Draco was so shaken by the very sound of his voice, but judging by the set of the blonde man's face, Harry wasn't going to be getting any answers any time soon.

"Are you O.K?" Harry asked softly as the car passed rolling green countryside. The blonde, who had been sat rigidly straight, drew in a small shuddering breath, his eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window.

"I'm fine." He whispered, a small amount of his snooty, superiority cracking through. Harry wondered if Draco had any control over it, whether his mind automatically switched to his super-superiority when it sensed danger, or if he did it on purpose simply to retain his cool, calm persona.

A tense silence fell over the two men and Harry concentrated on the road in front of him, knowing that if he started trying to decipher Draco's body-language or his facial expressions he'd probably drive himself mad. He wondered what was going through the blonde's mind and quickly found that he probably didn't want to know. He was, however, pleased to note that most of Draco's evident fear had evaporated, leaving behind an odd sort of shame that Harry couldn't quite understand.

"Look, Draco, I have no idea what all of that was about back there, but I know…" Harry paused, chewing his lip slightly as he prepared to put his intentions out there. "…seeing you so…upset, I didn't like it. Well, that's an understatement…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head slightly as he began rambling.

Draco's head turned slightly, his steely grey eyes studying Harry's face again. He didn't say anything, apparently waiting for Harry to gather his thoughts and continue, but the brunette definitely saw the other man's shoulders relax a little, the lines of stress across his forehead smooth out slightly.

Biting the bullet, Harry continued, "O.K…I like you… a lot, and I wish I knew the right thing to say to you, because all I ever seem to do lately is make you mad at me…but I'm not very good at all this…'liking people' stuff and I keep messing up-" Harry paused, glancing to see whether the blonde was still listening. Emerald eyes met silver, and for a fraction of a second Harry was stunned. The amount of hope swimming in Draco's orbs was astounding, and it was all Harry could do not to pull the car over and stare into them until the end of eternity. He wrenched his gaze away, fixing it back on the road ahead of him, scolding himself for being even the tiniest bit reckless whilst driving. His heart fluttered about in his chest as the image of Draco's eyes imprinted itself behind his eyelids so that every time Harry blinked he could see them - those smouldering eyes. "-I would never have spoken to him if I knew how upset it would make you. I'm really sorry."

Draco said nothing in reply and silence descended over them once more. Before long, they pulled up outside Draco's flat, neither making any move to leave though the silence still gagged them. The blonde had said nothing for the entire journey, and Harry was beginning to worry that he had said too much. He watched him out of the corner of his eye and realised that Draco was stalling, his eyes flicking around the street and the entrance to his building, apprehensively.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Harry asked softly, hoping the blonde man would say yes. His hopes evaporated when Draco shook his head.

Unclipping his seat belt, the blonde began opening the door, his eyes fixed on the pavement to make sure no-one was passing by. Right at the last minute, just as he was about to climb out, Draco turned and closed the distance between himself and Harry, his lips claiming the brunette's in a soft, sweet, but quite desperate kiss. His hand reached up and cupped the side of Harry's face delicately, and the brunette sighed with contentment, his wide eyes relaxing, falling closed as he savoured the unexpected pleasure the blonde was bestowing him with.

Draco's lips shaped themselves against Harry's effortlessly, his tongue running along the entrance of the brunette's mouth, asking permission to deepen the kiss. Harry was more than obedient, his mouth opening willing, his tongue meeting Draco's and beginning a complicated dance that neither had planned but was perfectly choreographed. His hand slid through Draco's hair, moaning in delight at how silky it felt.

The blonde's scent was everywhere and Harry breathed it in greedily, relishing in how intoxicatingly close the other man was.

Just as Harry thought it would become too much, that he would die from the pulsing desire running through his veins, Draco began to pull away, his kisses becoming more simple, more sweet, until he leant away altogether, climbing from the car and shutting the door behind him.

Harry moaned softly as he watched the blonde cross the pavement and enter his apartment building, a small, goofy smile gracing his lips. The sound of Pansy's voice echoed in his ears as he pulled away and drove home, the words she had whispered in his ear in the hotel like a lullaby as he drifted off to sleep that night. He was certain that no other sentence would ever rival her utterance of 'I know you're the one; please, don't give up on him.'

And he smiled as it sank in. The one. Harry couldn't agree more.

*************

Draco walked slowly up the steps to his apartment, each footfall feeling heavier than the last. His eyes were wide, stunned by his boldness…and his stupidity. Kissing Harry was a mistake, a complete and utter mistake, but it felt so good, so right.

The moment Draco had heard Theo's voice at the hotel he knew he had to get Harry away from him. Even with the fear of what the green-eyed man may have heard, Draco had dragged him away from the gardens. He knew as soon as he was in Pansy's suite he would vomit, had been suppressing it since the moment Theo had spoken, and the last thing he wanted was for Harry to witness it, but he had to know that the brunette was safe, away from the demon of his past.

Whilst alone in Pansy's bathroom, Draco had made a decision, had decided to do everything in his power to keep as far away from Harry as possible. Accepting a ride from the brunette man wasn't exactly in-keeping with that decision, but he figured it would give him a chance to perhaps find out what Harry knew; after all, Harry had a habit of running away at the mouth when silence fell around him. All Draco had to do was keep his mouth shut and let Harry do all the talking, and then once he arrived home he would walk away and not look back.

Walking away proved harder than he thought though, especially knowing now how Harry felt. Kissing him was as amazing as it was heart-breaking, but he couldn't leave the car without doing it, without having just one taste of those soft, pink lips. Just one, before he left for good.

He knew he wouldn't be going back to Aurors, had a feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. It was odd because he hadn't consciously decided to leave the firm, but he could no longer see himself there. He couldn't see himself anywhere.

Approaching his front door, he was afraid to go inside knowing that Pansy would never be coming home again, but he was afraid of going anywhere else in case Theo found him.

If nothing else, this apartment was safe. A safe haven. Pansy and Draco had always been very careful who they disclosed their address to, and he was pretty certain that it had remained a secret.

However, that didn't stop him glancing over his shoulder before he opened the front door, or walking round and checking every room was empty and all the windows were locked.

Even though he had decided to stay away from Harry, he still wished with everything he had that he wasn't alone; that the brunette was there and he could curl up in his arms and disappear. He closed his eyes and imagined how it would feel, lying against Harry's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was sure that, if he had the chance to hear it, the sound of Harry's heart would be the most glorious sound, and that nothing would ever compare to hearing it.

After a stretch of lonely minutes in which Draco had collapsed against his couch, a rap at the door made him jump, and terror washed over him as he stared it from his place on the sofa. It had just been a light tap, an innocent, friendly knock, but his heart pounded against his chest and his breathing abruptly stopped.

He knew he was being silly, knew it was probably Harry, but still he couldn't move, couldn't even begin to think what to do because he was certain Harry had driven away. He shook so hard that he was having near convulsions and it was all he could do not to cry out with fear, his teeth clamping down over his bottom lip to prevent the sound escaping.

The door knocked again, the visitor persistent.

"Draco?" A voice called against the wood, and all of the terror that had built up inside him instantly melted away, because even though the visitor was the last person on earth he would expect to turn up at his door, he was quite sure that they were about harmless as people come.

Making his way over to the door, his heart slowing but a frown beginning to crease his forehead, Draco unlocked the door and slowly opened it, staring at the person in the hallway in confusion.

A grim expression passed across her face, and the set of her mouth made him sure that it wasn't a social call. A different kind of fear crashed into him as he noticed the file in her hand and his name in the line of text across the front of it.

"I know what you did." Hermione said simply, and Draco's world, as he had been sub-consciously expecting to happen, crashed down around him.

***************

"O.K Mr. Potter, you seem to have a bit more colour. A nurse will be with you as soon as you're done." The doctor in charge of the A and E department told Harry, his tone distracted as his mind already began to think of the next patient.

Harry glanced at the IV in his hand with disdain as the harassed doctor swept away, the flimsy, generic curtain that lined the bay tinkling and swishing in the breeze from his departure.

Harry hated being in hospital, hated it with a passion. The sound and smell of illness and pain turned his stomach, and he glared furiously at the glucose bag hanging from a pole beside him. Bloody needles. Bloody glucose. Bloody diabetes. Bloody life!

He scowled to himself as he considered how utterly unfair his life was. He was 23, in the midst of becoming a licensed lawyer, with a practice funded by Hermione's parents (He tried not to dwell on that too much) and the ability to earn enough money to take care of himself for good…and now this had to happen.

Fucking diabetes! Like he hadn't had to put up with enough crap in his life! Like living in care, or having your parents murdered wasn't bad enough!

"HELP HIM, PLEASE!" a woman's voice shrieked through the department, and Harry literally winced as it pounded against his eardrums. He could see the old woman in the bay across from him jump in fright and then scowl as though the terrified, screaming woman was being inconsiderate. If Harry was being honest, though, he felt a little annoyed at the shrieking girl too. People are ill here, have some respect!

"PLEASE! PLEASE! HELP HIM! OH GOD, HELP HIM!" the high-pitched voice wailed, getting closer, and with another flutter of Harry's bay curtains, a trolley dashed past with a group of serious looking medical staff sprinting behind. 

The trolley had come to an abrupt stop beside Harry's bay, and in the frantic movements in the confined area, the curtain had been pulled open, and Harry was in full witness of the flurry of practiced protocol the doctors were following.

Harry openly stared, his mouth opening slightly as he watched the team performing CPR right in front of his eyes, their hands slamming against a pale chest in a desperate hope to re-start the patient's heart. The screaming girl who had accompanied the entourage, he noticed, was being held back by a stern-faced female nurse. She seemed to be trying to indicate that it wasn't safe or helpful to be any nearer to the bed, though the girl struggled against the arms restraining her, nevertheless.

Her face was a picture of horror, and Harry cringed as he thought of the sight she could see which he could not. Her mascara streaked down her face as tears tumbled thick and fast from her large, panic-filled eyes. Her chestnut coloured hair had fallen from a knot at the crown of her head, as though she had been pulling at it convulsively and it had given up on trying to stay up. Her clothes were smart and elegant, especially for her age - and Harry was quite sure she was relatively the same age as him - she looked as though, before her terror had hit her, she could've stepped out of a magazine. Her begging voice was unrelenting, although it held a ring of authority to it. As she maintained her stream of 'Please, god, help him!' it was more of a demand than a request, however, she was becoming quieter, as though she were trying to listen to what was being said by the doctors around her at the same time.

Harry mimicked her, his head turning to gaze at one of the doctors working over the trolley. Harry couldn't see the man strapped to it, far too many staff were now frantically trying to work in unison and kept blocking any type of view. He found it strange just how many doctors and nurses were surrounding the area, all wearing concerned and disbelieving expressions, like it was one of their own family frantically trying to be revived. It was as though every person in the vicinity was desperate to try and help with no regard for any of the other patients around.

Random words like 'Overdose', 'Methadone' and 'cardiac arrhythmia' made their way into Harry's consciousness and he watched with morbid fascination as the doctors began shocking the man's chest with yells of 'clear', a nurse standing close-by letting out a small sob as the electric current caused the unconscious man's body to rattle against the bed.

Harry couldn't move, couldn't tear his eyes away from what was happening beside him. He felt unbelievably sick and completely disgusted with himself. Was this what he had wanted? To be strapped to a trolley with doctor's fighting to save him? Had he been trying to kill himself, too?

Guilt and self-loathing tore through him as he realised how utterly pathetic he had been, worrying about needles and how unfair his life supposedly was…nothing was this bad, surely?!

The doctors continued to work over the man beside him, and by the frightened looks on their faces it wasn't going well. After a stretch of minutes, the team of doctors began gathering the machinery, preparing to move the trolley on to somewhere else.

Harry continued to watch, his stomach twisting nervously as the panic-struck girlfriend questioned what they were doing and received no straight answer in return. Her arms wrapped around herself, hugging herself as though trying to keep from falling apart.

Suddenly a nurse shifted, and Harry's head whipped around to see, for the first time, the man lying on the bed. His pale blonde hair sticking up in every direction would have made Harry laugh had he not been staring so intently at the thick tube that was spilling out of his mouth, a nurse continuingly pumping oxygen through a rubber bag, helping him to breathe. 

A smattering of blue and purple bruises lined the man's deathly pale throat, as though something had restricted his neck, and his chest, which was bare, held the sticky pads from when the doctors had shocked him with paddles.

Harry realised why the man's girlfriend had been so terrified, why her shrieking voice still rang in his ears…her boyfriend already looked dead.

The trolley began to move, jolting the man's body, his head shaking from side to side causing his blonde hair to flutter in the breeze of movement. His girlfriend drew up beside him to walk along with the trolley, her hand picking up one of his in an obvious death grip. Attached to the back of the grey hand was an IV pumping god only knew what into the man's already poisoned veins, and a heart monitor was connected to the end of his lifeless middle finger.

"Right, get him upstairs," A ruddy faced doctor ordered, apparently the man's condition stable enough to be moved, "And for Christ sake, someone get hold of Lucius Malfoy in Cardio! If he thinks he's too important to come down here, tell him Draco has just died 3 times in my A and E!" 

*********

For a long while after he had woken up, Harry stared wide-eyed at his bedroom ceiling, salty tears sliding un-noticed down the sides of his face. The only thing he managed to coherently process in the hours that passed, was the hope that he'd one day be able to rid himself of the image of a dying Draco from his memory. It broke his heart to know that that would probably never happen.

To be continued...

To be continued…


	12. With friends like these.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this story 10 years ago and posted it to another site, and at the moment I'm editing and polishing it to try and rid it of typos and bring it a bit more up to date (in the original they had flip phones lol).  
> I'm kind of throwing myself into it a little as my 8 year old has been conformed as having Autism and it's broken me a little. No one wants to know that their child is going to have major struggles for the rest of their lives. Anyway, completely unrelated to the story, but I just feel as though I need to lose myself in the Drarry world I created here. I really hope you guys are enjoying - please leave a comment if you are, I'd really appreciate it!

Harry glanced at the glowing red letters of his alarm clock and sighed when they read stupid o'clock. It was still early dawn, practically night time, but he knew there wasn't a chance in hell he'd get any more sleep. The image of a grey, dying Draco was etched too deeply behind his eyelids, so that every time he blinked he was presented with the horror again. Nausea swirled violently inside his stomach, giving him the feeling of sea sickness, and his pounding heartbeat did nothing to make the experience any more pleasant. He couldn't seem to calm down, his body panicking even though he knew that Draco was O.K, had pulled through and recovered and was now filling his days doing Harry's filing.

He wondered, as he climbed out of bed and headed for the shower, how long he had sub-consciously known that the man at the hospital was Draco - the man who had tried to take his own life, ultimately causing Harry to try and cling to his own - was the blonde man he was falling so desperately for.

He shuddered as he pondered why Draco would do something as drastic as trying to take his own life. What could have been so bad that the blonde man had felt the need to end it all?

Suicide. It took a strong person to actually go through with it, and though Harry had no doubt as to Draco's strength and determination, he couldn't see the blonde doing something so…extreme.

After his shower, he walked around his flat restlessly, unable to settle in one place for too long. He needed to be distracted, needed to have his thoughts diverted from the stomach churning knowledge that Draco's life had been so bad at one stage that death was his only option.

He dressed in a daze and hurried out of his flat to his car. He drove through the dark, empty streets, the tinkling rain on the roof the only sound besides the motor. Much to his annoyance, his mind drifted and he fought to keep focused on the road.

Pansy's screaming voice bounced against his eardrums like a repetitive echo, the memory untarnished as her sobs of 'Please, god, help him' sounded just as desperate, just as frightened as it had been the first time he had heard it back in the hospital. He shook his head as the odd feelings that he knew her that he'd experienced at the reception finally made sense. The strange tingling of his spine and cringing when he had heard her frantically trying to get Draco away from Theo in the hotel…it affected him because he had heard it before, had heard her be that scared and sub-consciously knew that her terror had a justifiable reason…she was afraid for Draco's life. Because she had once faced the possibility that he might die, had sobbed as he was repeatedly brought back to life, and it was somehow linked to the man her husband had been restraining. It had to be.

Pulling his car into the deserted car park outside Aurors, Harry sighed with relief. At least Hermione wasn't pulling an all night-er and he'd have some peace. Walking into Aurors when it was empty always reminded Harry of the night before he and Hermione had officially opened for business; when everything had that fresh, new smell. And the two friends were excited for the grown-up journey they were about to embark on together. It was a nice memory, Aurors always held nice memories for him.

He deactivated the alarm and strode through the reception, not bothering to switch on the lights. Only when he entered the main office area did he decide that a little lighting would probably be sensible , especially considering how likely it was that he'd cause himself an injury by walking into an errant chair or something just as hazardous, and he opted to just light the back of the room where his and Hermione's offices stood side by side.

He walked slowly, contemplating the amount of cases that needed his attention, glancing around at the random pictures and personal affects at various work stations. He liked that his team felt comfortable enough to have photos of their loved ones on display, but he frowned slightly when he reasoned that the photos were more likely to be on display because his team worked so many hours that they rarely got to see their loved ones in the flesh.

He glanced at Draco's desk as he made his way through to his office and the dream that was still so vivid scratched at his attention. He was glad he had time to prepare himself before the blonde came in to work, giving him time to try and make peace with his revelation and to compose himself.

There was something different about Draco's work area that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. It looked vacant, empty without the blonde pretending to look like he was working when he was really texting his friends beneath his desk. His personality usually enveloped the space with dazzling light and musical laughter, but now with him absent it seemed oddly vacant.

Harry shook his head and continued into his office, ignoring the morbid feeling of foreboding. It was the dream that was to blame. His nerves were jangling from the unexpected connection he had made, and it was now bleaching out around him, turning innocent, trivial things into something they were not. Still, he couldn't help but think it was ominous.

Sinking into his chair, he sighed, cursing Murphy's Law that he should become desperately tired now that he was away from his bed. He forced himself to pick up one of the files on the edge of his desk and concentrate on work in order to keep himself awake. And it worked, for a good 3 hours he immersed himself with a random person's problems, until his brain could no longer focus. He realised he should probably eat something - his likely low blood sugar not helping towards keeping him alert - so with unseeing eyes he reached into his snack draw and grabbed the first thing his hand touched. He felt a smile pull at his lips as he gazed at the chocolate bar in front of him, feeling oddly emotional. Emotional because he knew the lengths Draco had gone to acquire the sweet. It was obviously American in origin, meaning Draco had probably searched the internet for it. He'd never charged anything to the company or Harry's account, meaning Draco had paid for it, too. Put together with the delivery, Harry wondered how much time Draco had put in just so his boss could have a half decent snack in his drawer. The answer he came up with made Harry's stomach explode with warmth.

Feeling slightly more buoyant than he had before, he unwrapped the chocolate bar and chewed thoughtfully as he shuffled through the pile of case notes on his desk. He became bored quickly, his head now a million miles away from the office. Out of reflex, he snagged the case containing his blood monitor and placed it on the desk on top of the boring notes. He unzipped it slowly and flipped it open, momentarily confused when instead of the tiny machine that usually greeted him, a white envelope lay on top.

He stared at it for a long moment, the word 'Harry' emblazoned on the front in italic cursive causing one of his eyebrows to slide upwards. It was Draco's handwriting. A thrill of fear and excitement washed through him, and with trembling hands he picked it up. A million questions spun around his head, each more demanding than the last.

Why had Draco left him a letter? When had he left it? What was it about? Why was it in his monitor case rather than on the desk?

The excitement soon lost out to the fear, and with a hard swallow Harry ripped it open. Pulling out the single sheet of paper, he took a deep breath and unfolded it. Surprise flitted across his face as he read the single line of text in the centre of the page. Stupidly, he turned the paper over, looking for any other writing, frowning when he found none. He read the sentence again, his stomach churning.

'Filing room 2, aisle 6, bottom shelf, file 15711'

Harry's frown morphed into surprise, his eyebrows rising as his eyes widened. Filing room 2? Why would Draco point out a file from filing room 2? It was the criminal law section. Harry hardly ever dealt with criminal law, he wasn't even aware that Draco had a code for that room. And aisle six was at the back, meaning the files there were closed. Archived. Forgotten about.

Curiosity and another emotion he couldn't quite define made Harry get out of his chair and go and hunt out the file, his blood monitor completely and utterly forgotten. Pacing through the empty office area, dodging chairs and desks as he navigated his way through the shadows, Harry approached the filing room. In his eagerness to get inside, he mashed his key card into the slot so forcefully that it became jammed, and it took a good deal of force and swearing until it finally un-wedged itself.

The door swung open noiselessly and Harry stepped inside, cringing as he inhaled the unstirred, stale air. He flicked the switch on the wall and light flooded over the stacks of files, accompanied by a humming as the bulbs in the strip lighting warmed up.

He bypassed the first five aisles, heading straight to the back of the room, and stopped at the wall of old cases. Sinking to the ground, Harry began searching along the shelf, quickly realising how horribly out of order they were. Random files had been shoved just about anywhere, and he was sure he was going to have to search the entire room if it was all in the same state as this one shelf. Heaving an annoyed sigh he began sifting through the paperwork, being just as careless as the previous person. He rummaged through folders and pushed them aside, any loose documents that fell out he just hastily shoved back inside the folder with no patience to actually make sure it was in its proper place.

After about fifteen minutes of fruitless searching he finally had a breakthrough. He came across a simple manila folder, completely nondescript, tucked between two hefty murder cases, looking positively invisible in comparison.

When he tugged it out of its place, he noticed the text on the front, '15711 - Private and confidential' and a thrill of triumph run through him. The triumph was quickly overshadowed by anticipation, especially when he noticed the seal along the edge of the folder. Draco had obviously gone to great lengths to ensure that the file didn't end up in the wrong hands, even going so far as to rearrange an entire shelf and sealing the file.

With his stomach clenching nervously, Harry slipped his finger beneath the tab and broke the seal, flipping the front cover over with trepidation. He still couldn't work out why Draco hadn't just given him the file himself, and better yet, why did Draco have a file in the first place?!

A few pieces of officially headed paper were all that resided inside the folder, and Harry frowned again. The top sheet was crisp white with two creases where it had been folded for its envelope. The heading didn't jump out at Harry at first, instead his own name drew his eye.

"Mr Potter, We would like to extend out deepest gratitude for the sizable donation you recently made to us at 'Dursleys home for orphaned children'…"

Harry stopped reading, his eyes frozen on the name of his childhood home. A million different memories flashed before his eyes and it was all he could do not to throw up right there in the filing room. This couldn't be right, it had to be a joke, there was no way his former home had written to him; he would have remembered! And what was this about a donation? Harry had done his best to completely put Dursleys out of his mind, there was no way he'd linger on thoughts of the wretched place long enough to consider donating money. With the need to have it out of his sight, Harry stuffed the letter from the orphanage to the back of the file and found himself confronted with a different kind of document.

The paper was more expensive looking, thicker, parchment-like. Not unlike the paper his firm used. Reading the heading at the top, Harry found it was from a rival law firm 'Patronus LLP". This time it was Draco's name that drew his eye, and he read with growing confusion.

"Dear Mr Malfoy.

Re: Compensation claim made against Mr T Riddle."

Harry abruptly stopped reading. Vomit made a trail up his windpipe and he gagged as he tried to swallow it back down. What the hell was this? Did Draco find this amusing? Did he really think Harry would find it amusing?

Steeling himself, taking two deep breaths, he glanced back at the letter.

"Prior to our telephone conversation, I am writing to confirm that an agreement has been made in your compensation claim against Mr Tom Riddle.

In an attempt to avoid court proceedings, Mr Riddle has agreed to award Mr H Potter the sum of £250,000 for damages suffered from a fatal car accident on October 31st, 1981.

As requested, a cheque made payable to Dursleys home for Orphaned Children for the full sum of £250,000 will be arranged for your collection as soon as we receive payment from Mr Riddle's solicitor…"

Harry stared with wide eyes at the impossible information before him. He was faintly aware of the paper in his hands trembling, the words blurring as tears pooled in his emerald orbs. There were no thoughts in his head, his brain so utterly incoherent that it was an effort to remember to breathe.

He slumped against the shelves behind him, unaware of how uncomfortable he should be with files pressing against his back. A cold sweat washed over him and he shivered as it took hold.

Memories of the time he had seen Riddle on the anniversary of his parents' death whipped at his crumbling composure. The sound of Riddle's mocking voice assaulted his ears, the sarcastic answers he had given, the cruel laughter he had directed at Harry when he realised who he was…

The tears made their escape, falling triumphantly over his pallid cheeks. A sob wrenched itself from deep inside his body and he bowed over in an attempt to suppress it.

He didn't care if someone walked in, didn't care that he had spent so long building defences against this kind of emotion. He fell apart, right there in the middle of his firm. Fell apart as he succumbed to the bottled up, pressure cooker of feelings that he had spent a lifetime burying.

And he fell apart knowing that it was Draco who had made it possible. Draco who had gone to such lengths and trouble to ensure that Harry received just a fragment of something in return for what Riddle had done.

Blinking rapidly to try and clear the tears from his eyes, Harry pulled the final sheet of paper from the folder. Draco's elegant scrawl against the company headed paper greeted him, and he closed his eyes for a moment to try and regain a little control.

When he was sure he could handle whatever it said, he began reading.

"Harry,

I have hidden this file here, in the most abandoned part of Aurors' filing system, so that when I think you are ready, you will be able to find it. (Even if it will take a little shuffling around, sorry about that)

As you have probably already gathered, there are two official documents inside this folder. One from Patronus LLP, a law firm that specializes in compensation claims. I'm sure you can see why I didn't enlist the help from someone at Aurors…

The second document is from Durselys home for Orphaned Children. 

I should now take this opportunity to explain. Please, just listen until the end.

Do you remember the day I took you home and you explained to me about Tom Riddle? Well, you were reluctant to explain something to me. I looked into your eyes (just before you managed to scold yourself with kettle water) and all I could see was this unadulterated agony. It was then I knew that I had to do something.

I visited Riddle in Azkaban prison. I may not be anyone of importance in the world of Law and Order, but I managed to secure a visit. Money, as they say, talks. It always does.

I could not ensure an apology from that wretched man, but I managed to secure something that was at great personal cost to him. I hit him where it really hurts someone like that…his pocket. Now, I know you would never accept anything from him, and I also know that it isn't enough, it will never replace or bring back what you have lost - what he took away from you! - but it is a small consolation.

Now I should apologize. I invaded your privacy, quite grossly too. I had someone find out the name and address of the children's home you were raised in. I'm sorry.

But I know you will support the decision I made to donate the money to them. I'm confident that you would have done the same thing had you been in my position. Riddle destroyed your family…I forced him to help other children who have suffered a similar fate. It is not enough, it will never be enough, but it's something.

I now know the detail you were reluctant to share, and I cannot begin to understand how degrading and heart wrenching it must have been to experience it. All I can do is make you a promise.

He will never laugh at you again, Harry. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but I swear - I'll not let it happen again.

Yours, D.

Towards the end of the letter, traitorous tears once again flooded Harry's face but he paid no attention. He climbed hastily to his feet, gripping the shelves behind him for support. His stomach roiled and his heart thudded, yet he ignored it. He stumbled blindly through the room, leaving the light on in his haste to leave. He needed to see Draco, and he needed to see him now.

Thundering through the office area, his eyes connected with the blonde man's work station. He was struck, again, by how very wrong it looked without Draco sat behind the desk singing tunelessly along with his iPod when he thought no-one could hear. It looked abandoned, desolate. It made Harry's heart hurt as the images of Draco in the hospital assaulted him, and he stumbled over his feet as they hit.

Rushing through to his office, Harry stopped so suddenly he almost fell over. He stood motionless for a few moments, refusing to believe the connection his mind had just made but knowing that he was right. It had finally occurred to him why Draco's desk looked so empty.

Back tracking, roughly wiping the tears from his face, Harry paused at the desk, his eyes sweeping over the small area frantically.

It looked empty, because it was empty! Draco's cup that never seemed to make its way to the kitchen was missing from beside his computer. The stack of magazines that he always tried to pretend he didn't read were no longer peeking out from beneath his keyboard tray. His iPod lead was missing from the tower of his P.C. His odd collection of coloured pens and the good luck card from his friend, Pansy, were no longer visible.

A lead weight dropped into Harry's stomach and he rushed around the desk for a closer inspection. Maybe the cleaner had moved all of Draco's possessions; maybe the blonde had decided to tidy his work space. He ignored the fact that he had seen all of these things scattered around before he had left for the wedding, and that Draco shouldn't have been in the office since.

Pulling open random drawers, he found nothing remotely personal. Draco's in-tray was still full of work, but the projects he had been working on the day before the wedding were now missing from in front of the computer. In a last ditch attempt to quell his panic, Harry tugged the keyboard tray open and an envelope similar to the one he had found in his blood monitor case fell on to his lap.

His name splashed across the front in Draco's cursive was messy, looking as though it had been hurried. With sickening fear crashing over him, he ripped the envelope open and pulled out two crisp pieces of Aurors-headed paper. The first of the two was like a knife being stabbed viciously through his stomach.

"I, Draco Malfoy, hereby resign as Personal Assistant from Aurors LLP, to be brought into affect immediately…" Harry literally dropped Draco's resignation in an attempt to have it out of his sight. It fluttered out if his hand and to the ground noiselessly, followed by a pained gasp that ripped its way through his body. He didn't want to read it, just like he hadn't wanted to read the letter from his Childhood home. He didn't want to know, he didn't want it to be true. Why? Why would Draco resign, why now?! Why was he leaving, why did Harry always have to lose everyone?!

The second letter seemed to be the unofficial explanation for his departure, something he obviously could not put in an official document, and it quivered in Harry's trembling hand. He didn't want to read it…but he had to. How could he not? Though he soon found his vision quickly obscured with tears, needing to pause as each point was given. The stabbing in his stomach became more intense, more frenzied, increasing ten-fold with every line he read.

"Dearest Harry,

I will try and keep this as short as possible; no doubt you're going to feel the pressure now that I have deserted you as P.A. The first thing you ever said to me was that you were a busy man…I apologize for leaving you in the lurch.

The reason I've written you a letter is, as you've already gathered by now, I will not be returning to Aurors, and I simply could not just leave things unsaid. However, I couldn't face meeting with you, either. That last moment with you in your car, no matter how terrible I felt before and after, was…perfect! (And that's not a word I use lightly.) I'll not forget it in a hurry; I can assure you of that.

I digress. I'll get to the point now.

First of all, thank you. Thank you for everything - the trust and the risk you took in giving me a job, the patience to let me keep it. I appreciate it more than you could possibly comprehend, and I am indebted to you for the confidence and self-worth you have steadily helped me to re-build since our first meeting. Curiosity brought me to Aurors…you, well, you kept me coming back.

I have tried, in my own way, to repay you for your generosity, even though my attempt is fairly meagre in comparison. You will know by now what I did concerning Riddle, and I hope you will not hate me for it. I know that going behind your back like I did was unforgivable, but I couldn't do nothing. I could not stand back and watch you suffer whilst he…! I had to ensure that he would never hurt you again. I would never have been able to walk away from you if I were not absolutely certain. Please forgive me, Harry, I never meant to hurt you, and I hate myself because I have done it anyway.

I must apologize for this afternoon. Kissing you was a bad idea - I only made an already difficult situation impossible - and I should never have done it. How well I know that I don't deserve to breathe the same air as you - let alone deserve to be with you - and I have made things that much more painful for the both of us. Though, maybe I'm being slightly egotistical in that assumption. 

Most of all, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for entering your life, but even more so for exiting it. You'll never know how much I regret leaving, but you are a far, far better man than I am, Harry, and I was foolish to ever believe that I could be good enough to be around someone like you. You are good. Completely and utterly. I, am not. I never will be.

Finally, and most importantly…Please, I beg you, do not contact me. I cannot stand knowing that you despise me, for whatever reason. That thought is almost as unbearable as knowing I will never see you again. Almost.

Please, do not judge me on hearsay. Things are never what they seem, stories always have two sides, and like you once said…sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures - People do crazy things when they are under pressure, Harry, and even crazier things when the pressure is on their heart - I hope you never have to find out how true your statement was.

So, I guess this is it. Take care and live life how you want to, not how Hermione tells you to. She will never, ever be able to see past what she thinks she knows, everything will always be black and white to her - with the shades of grey being a myth - but still, she loves you. And for that…well, I cannot blame her - I don't blame her - she's looking out for you, eradicating the bad from your life and keeping you as safe as possible. As much as it pains me to admit, ignoring her obvious faults…she's good too. I only wish I were, as well. 

Goodbye, Harry.

Yours always, Draco. 

If asked later, Harry wouldn't have been able to say how long he sat at Draco's desk, staring at the letter through tear-filled eyes. The text on the page blurred and became distorted as each wave of agony washed over him, as each word of Draco's farewell sunk in. He was gone. He had left, and he wasn't coming back.

"Harry?" A surprised voice called as the rest of the strip lighting was switched on, washing light over the sea of cubicles ahead of him, and causing him to blink painfully as his eyes tried to adjust to the glaring brightness.

Ducking down behind Draco's computer monitor, he roughly removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with the balls of his hands as Hermione made her journey across the office space. Her footfalls were loud after the long silence, and as her sensible shoes thudded against the carpet, he cringed as his head throbbed to the beat.

"I wasn't expecting you to be in so early." Hermione commented, glancing towards the windows as though pointing out the early morning grey clouds. "How was the wedding yesterday?" She asked, her voice sounding wary.

Harry glanced up to find her gazing at him cautiously. The laptop bag on her shoulder slid down her arm, and she sighed as she heaved it back into place, her whole demeanour screaming stress and exhaustion. Harry, however, found it difficult to care at that moment. He let his eyes fall back onto Draco's letter, and raised one of his shoulders in a lop-sided shrug in answer to her question.

Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to the other, seemingly debating whether to continue questioning him or let him work things out on his own. Apparently, her eternal nosiness won out in the end, because she hefted the laptop onto the desk and settled against it, perching on the edge of the desk and arranging her skirt so that it sat right against her knees without revealing too much flesh.

"Is everything alright?" She asked softly, leaning forward in an attempt to see Harry's eyes behind his glasses. She was thankful that he'd had his hair cut the day before, leaving his face clear of the unruly fringe he sometimes used to hide behind. She found herself appreciating the change, even if she disapproved of the cause. Of course, she already knew just by looking at him that everything was the opposite of alright, and she cringed at the likely reasoning for it.

"Why are you sat here?" She asked when Harry didn't respond to her, his eyes remaining fixed on a piece of paper in his hand. She noted with trepidation that his hand was trembling, and a cold, icy dread washed over her.

Harry was fighting an internal battle with his emotions. He didn't want to speak with Hermione, he didn't trust his voice not to betray him, but he knew that if he were to flee it would raise more questions from the bushy haired woman. Summoning as much control as he could and failing miserably, he replied.

"Draco's left. He's quit." he whispered, traitorous tears pooling in his eyes, once again. He stared hard at the letter, willing himself not to cry in front of Hermione.

"Oh." Hermione said softly, "Why?"

Harry didn't notice the discomfort in her tone; neither did he notice how she squirmed slightly where she sat. He was beyond noticing anything. Hermione could've been sat there naked and he wouldn't have had the foggiest. All he could see were Draco's knife shaped words, all he could feel were the individual wounds they had made in his heart, piercing it through so it resembled little more than Swiss cheese.

"Because that's what happens to me, isn't it? Anyone important to me just…" He paused, his throat constricting around the words. He couldn't say it, couldn't have the truth laid bare for him to see. Because the end of that sentence was horrifying and agonising, and so completely accurate. The people he cared for always left him, and he was destined to be alone.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed a few times, guilt crashing down on her like a filing cabinet full of murder cases. "I'm sure it was nothing you did, Harry…"

Harry wasn't listening, the last 24 hours whipping at his mind in a frenzied attack. He wished he could turn back time, go back to the previous day and refuse to leave Draco when he had taken him home. He wished he had stayed with him, and been there when this decision to leave Aurors had been made so he could unmake it again in the same instance. He wished he had slept beside Draco, with the blonde man safe in his arms, so that when that terrible dream had occurred he could have woken and assured himself that Draco was fine, and that perhaps it was all just an awful, fictitious nightmare.

But it wasn't a nightmare. It was real, and he was still gone.

Pansy's voice echoed inside his brain, adding another knife to Draco's battalion of daggers. The desperate words she had uttered about Harry being the one, the words that had whispered Harry to sleep now sounded like a cruel joke; a vicious, merciless prank manufactured to break him when Draco walked away. He couldn't help the murmur that slipped past his numb lips

"I believed her…" he breathed, barely audible, even to himself.

Hermione began fidgeting; Harry's prolonged silence and blank expression causing the full filing cabinet to crush her even more. She was more than aware of how still he was and it disconcerted her; Harry rarely did still. He had a habit of making himself as busy as possible when he was stressed, to bury his head in the sand until it passed. This new, lifeless Harry was a frightening sight. "I understand why you're upset, Harry. I know you were fond of him. Look, I'll have Dolores run an ad for a new P.A when she gets in…" she said, hoping to get a response.

Harry didn't disappoint. Hermione considered later on that it was probably the first time she'd ever witnessed Harry lose his temper like he did, and she reasoned that it was probably then that she should have realised the extent of his feelings.

"That's not the fucking point, Mione! I don't give a fuck about not having a sodding P.A; I don't give a fuck about fucking work!" Harry cried, slamming his fists against the desk for emphasis, causing the computer monitor to wobble dangerously on its stand. The letter in his hand crumpled slightly as his fingers closed around it.

Hermione jumped at the suddenness of his outburst, even gasping a little, though she knew there was nothing to be scared of. This was Harry, after all. "Calm down, Harry." She murmured, trying to placate him.

Harry, however, didn't calm down. He couldn't. He'd wrenched open a door deep within himself, one that had been rattling since he'd read Draco's resignation, the one that hid all the ugly, selfish, angry parts of his soul. He needed to vent, needed to let himself hurt. Unfortunately, Hermione was in the firing line and was being forced to witness it.

"Don't tell me to calm down, just fucking don't! I'm tired of you always trying to run my fucking life for me. He's right-" He bellowed, waving Draco's letter in Hermione's face frantically, for some unknown reason his life-long friend becoming the enemy "-I should take control and stop letting you fucking boss me around!"

Hermione's eyes fixed themselves on the paper in Harry's hand, the cold, icy dread she felt earlier once again making an appearance. She realised that she probably should have scolded him for using the 'F' word so much - more times than she had ever heard him say - but she couldn't tear her thoughts away from the paper before her. "What is that?" She whispered, making the connection between Harry's yelling of 'He's right' along with the paper, "He wrote you a letter? When?"

Harry visibly run out of steam, the door inside him that had been wide open swung closed with an unnerving crash, and he was left with the aftermath of his temper tantrum. He slumped in Draco's chair, bringing the letter that was still enclosed in his fisted hand back down to the table, laying it silently in front of him. He couldn't think straight, his emotions continuously jumping around leaving him unable to keep up. He wanted to cry again, and he wanted to move but he couldn't bring himself to leave Draco's work space.

"I don't know…before he left…maybe…" He shrugged, unconcerned with the small details and focusing on the bigger picture. The picture that looked desperately desolate without Draco standing in the front.

"May I read it?" Hermione asked, he tone inexplicably anxious.

Harry didn't look at her; however, his fingers gently pushed the letter towards her. His expression was still disconcertingly blank, and Hermione found herself genuinely worrying for her friend. She had never, in all the years she had known him, seen Harry in this kind of state, and it truly frightened her. Frightened her because she was to blame for it, but she was, in no way, prepared to change it.

She read the letter quickly, her eyes skimming over Draco's ostentatious handwriting, and paused when a particular name jumped out at her. "What's this about Riddle?" She asked, her tone stricken. How did Draco know about Riddle?

"Just read it, I'll explain after." Harry replied, sounding as though explaining was the last thing he wanted to do. Hermione continued reading, the guilt she felt increasing the further she moved down the page. When she finished, she silently handed the letter back to Harry. When he failed to begin his explanation, she prompted him. "What was he talking about, when he mentioned Riddle?"

Harry shifted in his seat. He didn't want to explain that particular part to Hermione, knowing she would turn into her control-freak alter-ego, but he found himself mumbling anyway, his tone horridly monotonous. "I visited Riddle on Halloween…"

As predicted, Hermione's gasp was full of self-righteousness, and the following rant was likely to be full of the same, however Harry swiftly cut her off. "I don't care how self-destructive you think I am. I had to meet him; I don't expect you to understand that.

Hermione visibly bristled, her expression predictably indignant, but she didn't rise to his comment. "You told Draco?" She asked, unable to keep the sullenness out of her tone. When had Harry decided to replace her as confidant?

Harry's responding nod was pitiful; he barely even bobbed his head.

"What did he mean 'What he did concerning Riddle?'" Hermione pressed, that particular detail of Draco's letter concerning her more than anything. She swallowed back the demand for Harry to speak to her when his eyes fell closed, tightening at the edges as though he were in physical pain. She reasoned that she probably wasn't far off the mark. The subject of Tom Riddle had always been agonising for her best friend.

Harry took a deep breath to try and calm himself, and when that didn't work, he tried another. His lungs felt as though they were made of lead, incapable of drawing in oxygen.

"Draco sued him." He muttered, brushing his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had picked up from the blonde man. "He donated the money to…the children's home…He hid a file in filing room 2, with the paperwork inside. There were directions for the folder left in my blood monitoring case."

Well, if one thing was a relief, Hermione thought, it was that Harry had used his blood monitor recently, and she wouldn't have to raise the subject of his blood sugar. She had a feeling it would more than likely cause Harry's head to explode if she mentioned his diabetes now. The more important revelation of what Draco had done was slightly harder to ignore. "He did what?!" she choked, horrified.

"Unbelievable, isn't it." Harry whispered softly, mistaking her tone for disbelief. He was still reeling himself, trying to figure out why Draco would do something so amazing and then leave without warning, "That's what makes it so hard to believe that he's just left…" He murmured, continuing his thought out loud. Nothing made sense.

Silence descended over them as both lost themselves in their own thoughts. Harry's confusion, and Hermione's unravelling guilt. Abruptly, Harry stood, no longer able to just sit there and do nothing, "I have to see him." He breathed, the idea of actually seeing Draco face to face spurring him into action.

He was around Draco's desk and heading towards his office door before Hermione even had a chance to comprehend what he had said. When it sank in, panic smashed into her and she leapt off the desk to follow him.

"He said he doesn't want you to contact him, Harry. I think you should just leave it." She cried, tripping over the metal rod that held down the carpet beneath the door frame and having to grip the jamb to steady herself, twisting her ankle in the process.

Harry was unaware, focused on his coat that was on a stand behind his desk. "I can't leave it, I need to speak to him myself-" he argued. He'd drive over to Draco's flat and knock the door down until he answered, "I need to know what's really going on!"

"He's left, end of story. Just forget about him, like he asked you to do." Hermione panted, limping toward him as her ankle gave a twinge in protest.

"I can't!" Harry yelled, spinning round to face her and slamming his fist down on the desk again, causing Hermione to leap back with surprise. She frowned in annoyance as he, once again, noisily lost his temper. Her frown melted away when she saw how pale his face had become. "I can't do that, 'Mione!" he added in a desperate whisper, willing her to understand.

Hermione, however, was going to do whatever it took to make sure that that was exactly what Harry would do. She had already come this far, she had already disposed of the cause; she just needed to deal with the effect. "He's no good for you, Harry! I won't let him destroy your life!" She replied, her expression and tone completely serious.

Harry glared at her, his temper slowly heating up again until it was boiling. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't even know him!" He spat angrily. How dare she say that about him! Draco was the best, most important part of his life - the only way the blonde could destroy Harry was by walking away. The destruction was in his absence, not his presence!

Hermione's cheeks flamed with angry colour, her hair practically crackling with static as she raised herself to her full height. "Oh, I do, Harry! I know him very well," She hissed, "I know what a low-life, spoilt, manipulative little creature he really is! It's you who is ignorant to him, you who he's targeted to be his next victim, and it was up to me to make sure that he was as far removed from you as possible!" She yelled, slightly hysterical by the end of her tirade. The very idea that Harry might have suffered through what that poor man, Theodore, had suffered turned her blood to ice.

Harry recoiled from her description of Draco, his boiling temper dropping instantly to an ice cold fury. The last part of her rant settling slowly in his brain, the words feeling unorganised, wrong in the order she had spoken them, "What?" He whispered dangerously low.

His tone didn't affect her, however. Hermione was long accustomed to standing her ground. "He didn't quit voluntarily, Harry," She said as though she were addressing a jury, completely devoid of any emotion, "I went to his place last night, after you left, and told him that if he ever came near you again I would ruin his entire family…Not that they would wish to associate themselves with the likes of him!" She finished, straightening her coat nonchalantly, like she would in court after she'd ripped a witness to shreds and was feeling particularly smug. It was clear Hermione thought she was on the winning side of the discussion.

Harry felt as though he were two steps behind her, struggling to up his pace and catch up. Her words weren't making sense "You did what?" He breathed, his fury simmering away, waiting for him to fix the pieces together.

"I had to; I had to make sure he never had the chance to hurt you. I gave him a choice, quit or be fired. Quitting, apparently, was less of a blow to his ego." She replied coolly.

The door inside him, the ugly, soul revelling door, swung open with a resounding crash, "How dare you!"

"Yes, I dared," Hermione yelled in response, "I'd do anything to protect one of my friends-" She slammed her hand down on the desk, much the same as Harry had before but failed to produce much of thump like he had done. Her attempt was pretty feeble, especially when his enraged voice drowned out any noise it might have made.

Rage and horror smashed into Harry with such a force it was a wonder he didn't crash through the wall behind him. Draco had left because of Hermione? This was all her fault?! The woman who been his very best friend for longer than he cared to remember, the woman who he trusted to the very last degree… "You bitch! You call him manipulative?! You need to take a look in the mirror! You just couldn't stand the thought that there might be someone more important in my life than you, could you! You want me to be miserable, and dependant on you. Does that make you feel special, Hermione, does it give your fucking life some purpose?!" He bellowed, his eyes wide with accusation. He didn't care how utterly, unforgivably rude he had been - she deserved it. It wasn't Draco ruining his life…it was Hermione!

"Harry!" Hermione gasped; horrified by the conclusion he had come to, "You don't know…"

"Save it," He cut her off, swiping his coat from the stand so violently that it crashed to the ground in a heap of wood and day jackets. "I'm not interested, I don't fucking care-"

"Harry, wait please, just listen-" Hermione begged as he stomped around his desk towards the exit.

"Fuck off!" He spat as he passed her, any resemblance of manners completely lost to the torrent of undivided fury swirling inside him.

"Harry, please-" She exclaimed again, limping after him as he began to storm through the main office area. She couldn't let him leave; she wouldn't let him follow after Draco unprepared simply because she had promised the blonde man her silence. If Draco was ashamed of his past then he shouldn't have created it in the first place. Keeping Harry in the dark, for his own peace of mind as well as Draco's, was now out of the question as he seemed hell bent on running towards such a destructive person. She'd have to tell him, even if it hurt him.

"He's a drug addict!" She yelled desperately as the distance between them increased, fear and hysteria leaking into her voice causing Harry to stop so abruptly he teetered with his balance for a few seconds.

Harry felt as though he had walked into an invisible wall. He crashed to a halt, his entire body pausing in its every action. His lungs failed to pull in air, his heart failed to pump blood, his brain failed to send a single signal of command to his frozen body.

His memory bank, however, used all the extra, left-over energy to bombard him with a succession of images. One after the other, like the flickering images of slide show. Snap, snap, snap: Draco's C.V full of holes and unexplained gaps, his reluctance to speak of his past or his family. The moment he had been rushed into hospital and placed beside Harry, with nurses shouting about an overdose and Methadone…! His odd fear of needles, his weird reaction when Harry had tried to touch his arm in the hotel gardens. Draco's determination that Lavender had been on drugs, and the words he had whispered by mistake 'Even if I hadn't seen her snorting it, I'd be able to tell…I'd know. You learn to read the signs when -' God, how Harry had wished that Draco had completed that sentence…now, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know.

It couldn't be true. Draco couldn't be a drug addict, it was impossible; he was too…too…! His mind faltered. He had no idea how to finish that thought, because he didn't really know Draco at all.

A drug addict. It just seemed too seedy and dirty to be associated with Draco, a man who was the epitome of all things good and clean and safe. And he was afraid of needles. It made no sense, nothing was adding up. But then, Harry had always been a master of denial, trying not to see things that were blatantly there when it became too much. Maybe he was to blame, his eternal need to see good in everyone finally biting him in the arse.

After a stretch of agonisingly silent minutes, Hermione finally broke Harry's reverie. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it's true. When you left yesterday, I did a background check on him, just to be sure." She said to his back, "His name came up on the database…he was accused of possession, supplying and administering Methadone to his then partner, Theodore Nott, for at least 6 months." She cringed as Harry swayed where he stood. "He was dismissed from St. Mungo's training hospital for theft. He was found with high quantities of Methadone in his system. He was flagged on the database because I represented Mr Nott."

Harry's brain stuttered to a halt. He whipped around so fast that Hermione visibly started, but he didn't care. "Why didn't you tell me about this? Why have you waited til now, when you knew that things were changing…?!" He demanded, his breathing so laboured he feared he'd pass out. Theo's name caused an ice cube of fury to drop heavily into his stomach, freezing everything it touched. The argument between Theo and Blaise had sounded as though Theo was the one who had destroyed Draco, not the other way around. And Draco's fear was completely unjustified; it should have been Theo fearing the big bad drug dealer. Nothing added up. "I have to see him"

"Look, Harry, I know you're angry with me, and I know all of this is bound to be difficult for you to get your head around…but-" Hermione began, stepping forward with her hand extended as though desperate to comfort him…or restrain him. Harry couldn't be sure.

"No," He interjected, shaking his head in an attempt to think clearly, "You don't know him like I do. I don't believe it, it doesn't make sense" he said forcefully.

Hermione literally stamped her foot in frustration, and Harry received a stab of satisfaction when she winced and gingerly tilted to keep her weight of her ankle. He hoped it hurt her. "Harry, the evidence is in my office, I can show you now!" she practically growled.

But his mind was made up, the words from Draco's letter choosing that moment to present themselves to him, "There are two sides to every story, he said so himself. He knew you'd say something like this, he asked me not to believe hearsay. And he was right, you'll never be able to see past what you think you know…" he murmured, shocked when he realised how true the statement was. Hermione saw things with such tunnel vision…there was every possibility that she had this completely wrong.

"Oh, Harry, open your eyes!" She all but screeched back at him, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "He manipulated you! He found your weakness, and he exploited it. Though I must say, he was very thorough, even going so far as to visit Riddle!" She spat nastily.

Harry staggered backwards, recoiling as though she had reached across and punched him in the face. Red-hot, acidic bile climbed up from his stomach and scorched his throat, and it was all he could do to swallow it back down, enduring the agony on its return trip. It took every ounce of his strength not to fall to his knees, because he hadn't looked at it from that angle; hadn't once thought that Draco had gone through the process of getting revenge on Riddle purely to score points with Harry, to wheedle his way in. He'd only felt completely enamoured by the blonde man's loyalty and was utterly thankful. Now it seemed dirty, Hermione had tarnished it beyond recognition.

Hermione noted Harry's crumbling will with bittersweet relief, and used his silence to her advantage. "I'm so sorry, Harry." She murmured, taking a cautious step towards him, "I didn't want to hurt you -"

She paused as Harry visibly cringed, Draco's similar words echoing loudly in his ear "I know you were fond of him, but you have to see the truth. He's rotten, and you're better off without him."

Harry finally broke. His walls crashed down around him with sickening finality as his heart fractured straight down the middle. How could she not see? Why wasn't she calling an ambulance? Surely it was visible, his pain, oozing out of him like congealed blood. He looked Hermione square in the eye, the tears he now had no control over pooling against his emerald irises, waiting for the blink that would send them cascading over his cheeks. "You don't know anything." He croaked, his voice breaking twice.

Hermione stared at him as though he had grown another head, she shifted awkwardly as though trying not to acknowledge his display of emotion - as though she hoped she was imagining it. "I know that I did the right thing. I've gotten rid of him, you'll find a new P.A and things will go back to normal." She said with a confident nod, though her expression was uncertain.

A thin, almost invisible drop of pity dripped into Harry's consciousness as he stared at the woman before him. She really was completely ignorant, and grossly misinformed. Did she really think that things were that simple? "No they won't." he breathed with a tiny shake of his head.

"They will, Harry. Trust me, this is for the best." Hermione soothed, taking another step towards him until she was within reaching distance.

Harry shook his head more determinedly, his eyelids falling closed for a fraction of a second sending a torrent of tears to wash a trail down his face "Hermione, you don't understand…you've got no idea what you've…" He whispered, a sob escaping him on the last word. She had no idea!

Hermione gasped. It sounded pained; as though Harry's obvious sorrow was her own, "Harry! Oh, Harry, what is it?" She whispered, reaching out to comfort him only for him to take a step back. She held her hand out, as though his rebuff had frozen her. Her expression horrified, agonised, and it only became worse as the minutes stretched on and more tears fell from Harry's dull, lifeless eyes.

"I'm in love with him." he finally whispered, and it was then that Hermione realised that if she lived to be a thousand years old…Harry would never forgive her for what she had done.

To Be Continued…


	13. Hide and seek

"Sir, we have arrived." Dobbs' deep, rumbling voice announced from the darkened front seat of one of the Malfoy's many vintage cars. Draco slumped further into the cold, black leather back seat, trying to ignore the mild concern in his life-long driver's voice.

Draco had been loath to request Dobbs' services, had despised that a man who had witnessed him grow up would have to see him in such a state, but he had no other choice - he had to get away from the demons that had finally caught up with him, and the only way he could think of accomplishing that was calling upon his personal driver to take him home to his family's private estate.

Dobbs had arrived at Draco's flat faster than the blonde man could've thought possible, especially considering it was the early hours of the morning. He had pulled up outside the building that Draco had called his home for some of the happiest and saddest years of his life, readily accepting Draco's bag of clothing and asking no questions as he took in the blonde man's devastated expression.

Besides asking that they stop at an empty Aurors to deliver his farewell to Harry, the humming of the engine inside the car was the only noise made during the 2 hour drive to Malfoy Manor, and for that Draco was thankful- he simply couldn't bear having to engage in mindless chatter when his life was falling spectacularly to pieces…yet again.

He had stared at the leather headrest of the seat in front of him for the entire journey, his eyes unseeing as his mind replayed the devastating evening he'd had to endure.

Hermione Weasley. How he despised her, how he wished her nothing but excruciating pain - just as he was experiencing now. But he couldn't justify the wish to himself, because he understood why she had done what she had done - She had faulty information, and she was protecting her friend from a danger that wasn't really there…not anymore anyway. How could he hate her when the friend she was protecting was the one person who needed protection from him?

The car door to his left opened, a sharp icy breeze entering the warm backseat, dragging Draco's attention back to the present, and he turned his bleary eyes to Dobbs. The short, portly driver gazed at his charge somberly; fatherly concern apparent in his large, bulbous eyes, and Draco knew he was recalling the last time he had delivered a broken Draco back to his childhood home. The blonde shivered as he joined the driver in the past before hastily ripping himself back again.

"Thank you, Dobbs," He murmured politely as he exited the car, his vision sweeping the vast white mansion that towered in front of him. His heart sank that he was back here again, back in a situation where he needed to run home, run and hide from the world around him.

He slowly climbed the front steps wanting nothing more than to be back in his flat curled up in bed with Pansy watching a crap chick-flick. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be walking through his parent's front door, pacing the reception room, scaling the grand staircase…and least of all, he didn't want to be entering his old bedroom.

It looked the same as it did the last time he had been here; his outdated wallpaper still lining the walls to his now obsolete sound system. Posters of music groups that had long disbanded hanging in varying positions against the walls, some even losing their grip- their corners hanging as though ready to take the plunge to the ground. His vast walk-in wardrobe holding clothes that had long since fit and had long since gone out of fashion.

He dumped his bag on his massive bed, ignoring the twinge of déjà vu that attacked him at the action. His eyes travelled towards his closet and he felt a familiar draw to go towards it, to walk inside and look at the garment that had hung there since his 18th birthday, the garment that he had longed to wear - and knew now that he never would.

With a sickening twist to his stomach and a stab to his heart, Draco turned and left the room before he broke down completely. He was such an idiot! He always did this, tormented himself with a future that was now impossible, he was such a masochist - like he wasn't in enough pain already!

He paced through the halls of Malfoy Manor, heading towards his mother's classroom where he knew she would be if she were home. Of course, his father would have gone to the hospital as soon as Pansy's wedding was over, the need to be back inside its familiar, sterile environment like an itch begging to be scratched. Envy washed over Draco like ice cold water. He wished his itch could be scratched as easily. But at least he wouldn't have to run into the cold man or attempt to explain why he was in the house - he didn't think he'd be able to handle seeing disappointment in his father's eyes again.

As he drew nearer to his mother's wing a drop of fear filtered through his veins. What if his mother wasn't home? Though he knew Pansy Parkinson's wedding was the last place his mother would have wanted to have been, he still couldn't shake the fear that his mother might have decided to stay on late, enjoying the party with old acquaintances.

Narcissa's classroom stood at the end of her wing, the door standing slightly ajar letting a stream of bright light fall across the wooden floor of the hall, and relief washed over him at the sight of it.

Draco took slow, deliberate steps toward it, feeling his expression from the inside in an attempt to know what it looked like. He had a feeling it wasn't a pretty sight and hoped fervently that the red, puffy, blotchiness that generally accompanied crying wasn't obvious on his normally pale face.

His mother's voice made its way out into the hall and Draco cringed when he realised she was probably in the middle of a lesson. Cursing his luck that he should have a crisis and require her assistance during one of her uptight classes, Draco peered through the crack in the wide oak doors of the classroom, and watched as his mother took measured steps around the large polished dining table in the centre of the replica aristocratic dining hall.

Scattered evenly around the table were a collection of intimidated looking young girls, all stealing nervous glances at one another when they thought Narcissa wasn't looking. But something Draco had learned from a very early age was that Narcissa was always looking, and she always punished those who were caught in wrong doing.

Narcissa Malfoy was a renowned etiquette teacher to the pretentious socialite community in which she resided, and taught the future ladies of upper class Britain how to act in order to find the right suitor when they were old enough to be married off.

The ladies, Draco thought with a sarcastic eye roll, were all pre-pubescent children, all being forced to attend his mother's etiquette training by their over-ambitious, social climbing parents in the hopes that they will eventually attract the eye of a rich, well connected man to whom they can quickly and extravagantly off-load their offspring onto.

His lip curled distastefully at the sick, outdated ritual. He hated the circles in which his family moved, hated that his life or any of these girls' lives would be decided by their parents - what was so wrong with falling in love by your own accord?! Whatever happened to fairytale endings and finding the love of your life by just staring across a crowded room and spotting that random person who you would gladly spend the rest of your life with?

Draco knew what had happened to love - life had happened!

His mother's rigid figure continued to meander hawk-like around the table full of adolescence, her critical eyes running over posture and poise, and Draco unconsciously straitened where he stood - his chin raising an inch higher, his shoulders realigning from their slight slouch without his permission.

Etiquette, his mother lived and breathed it, just as his father lived and breathed medicine. His parents' motto was that a body needed a heart to function, but needed etiquette to survive - completely ridiculous, as if any of that actually mattered - but that was how he had been raised, and a long time ago he had grasped at that motto.

"Now, each take the napkin that is placed directly in front of you. One should always fold one's napkin in half before placing across one's lap. One must never tuck their napkin inside their blouse, Miss Millicent." Narcissa announced to the room, her tone hardening as she reprimanded one of the girls.

The evening dinner party training was tough, he thought sympathetically, glancing at each of the children's nervous expressions. His mother's lessons generally started at 6am, something Draco knew from experience, with Narcissa repeating the class over and over until ever single 'lady' could do it perfectly. Looking at the clock and finding that it was 6:30am, Draco wondered how lucky the girls in the class knew they were that he was about to cut it short and save them a day of being hit on the knuckles with a solid silver spoon.

Feeling a small amount of tenderness to the young girls in his mother's charge, and happy that he could gate-crash the gathering and give them all a break, Draco sucked in a steadying breath, hoping beyond hopes that he didn't look as scary as he thought he did, and rapped demandingly at the door.

He heard his mother's exasperated sigh at the sound and waited for permission to enter the room.

"You may enter." She announced scathingly, making the invitation sound more like an acidic threat.

Draco took another calming breath before pushing the door open wider and stepping slightly into the room, ignoring the hushed gasps that issued from the gaggle of girls. His mother's rigid, stern face remained expressionless thanks to her botox sessions, but her demeanour changed instantly. She morphed from Miss Narcissa to Mother in a split second and ordered the girls to leave the room just as quickly, which was when Draco realised that he must have looked terrible. To invoke such a reaction from his mother, commanding her complete and utter undivided attention, something he had only experienced once in his life, was enough to tell him he looked a wreck, but to be quite honest he didn't really care. He couldn't care less what he looked like, and he cared even less about how that made his mother feel.

Once the room was cleared, Narcissa beckoned her son forward, steering him towards the first available chair she met. Her hands fluttered over his face, her cold, manicured fingers sweeping across his cheekbones and down the length of his jaw, and she sighed softly as she pulled him close to her for a brief hug. Draco froze, unused to such contact from his mother, and he held his breath until she released him, letting him pull back into his personal space.

"Draco, what has happened?" Narcissa asked after a silent, tense moment, her eyes centred on her only son who looked so distraught.

Draco gazed at his mother for the tiniest portion of a second before he looked away, ashamed. He didn't want to tell her, didn't want to explain that he was once again back at rock bottom- that he had lost everything because of a series of stupid mistakes that seemed intent on ruining his entire life.

He slouched into his chair as the weight of the past 24 hours pressed down on top of his shoulders, physically and mentally exhausted.

His mother was quick to reprimand, her voice whipping out sharply, "Posture, Draco!" she demanded, her hand reaching across to lift his chin as he pulled his back rigid, "One must always keep his head held high, especially in times of stress!" she added sternly, speaking to him as though he were a student rather than her son.

Draco straightened out, bitterness and hate welling up inside him. The image of Harry's face burst across his vision and he shuddered away from it. He'd lost him…before he could even have him. "I've been fired." he whispered softly, gazing at the shining surface of the table before him.

From the corner of his eye he could see that Narcissa was confused, the conversation he'd had with her little more than 12 hours previous in which he had assured her he was doing well as a P.A and that he was happy, obviously playing through her mind, "Fired? I thought you were doing well as a secretary…" she murmured, bemused.

Draco's eyes fell closed, resentment crashing into him. He was about to correct his mother, spit out that he was a personal assistant and not a secretary, but then he realised it didn't matter - he wasn't either anymore. He focused on her query, "They found out about…Theo…" he whispered, fighting the urge to break down and cry. He knew that no matter his problem, he must never cry in front of anyone - least of all his mother!

Understanding passed across Narcissa's face and she reached her hand out again, placing it lightly on Draco's shoulder. Her crystal blue eyes bored into the steel greyness of her son's, and she mentally cringed at the lifelessness she found. Such bright silver eyes he'd had when he was born, sparkling with knowledge and enthusiasm as he grew, but now…it pained her how very broken he looked. "I'm sorry, Draco-"

"Can I stay for a few days, until I find somewhere else -" Draco interrupted, unwilling to hear his mother's sympathies, "I don't want to go back to the flat, especially now Pans' has left…" he added, running his trembling hands roughly through his hair as he fought to control his emotions, "I'll stay out of Dad's way, he won't know…I'm here."

"Draco, your father will understand-" Narcissa whispered softly, knowing her assurance would fall on deaf ears.

"No, he won't, mum. I don't want to see any more disappointment in his eyes, I can't handle it-" Draco said fighting a sob. The tears were close now, everything was piling on top of him and it was becoming harder and harder to maintain control, "Mother, can I-" he added desperately, his eyes begging for her understanding, his gaze switching from the door and back again. He needed to leave her company now; he needed to escape to his rooms where he could break down in private.

"You are excused, sweetheart." Narcissa informed, looking away as though his desperation were shameful.

"Thank you," Draco breathed before sweeping from the room and running towards his own, ignoring the startled cry of a maid he almost knocked down in his haste.

He all but threw himself through his door, slamming it as though he could block out his past along with the world. His bleary eyes landed on the closet again, and this time, feeling as though he had nothing to lose, he answered its call, walking through its vast doors and into the stuffy room beyond.

The clothes hanging from the rails held no interest to the blonde, the shoes lining the floor were all but invisible. His eyes were focused on the rail at the very back, behind a cluster of plastic wrapped dry cleaning, where he knew his most prized possession rested.

The tears he'd been holding back since he had left his flat fell uninterrupted now, cascading down his cheeks in one long, endless torrent. He hesitantly extended his hand, letting it fall against the white fabric, carefully fingering the royal blue stitching on the left handed breast, the delicate scrawl elegantly spelling his name.

Rage overtook him, indignation that he should keep befalling such misery racing through his veins, and a red veil fell over his eyes, blinding him. He bellowed pitifully, savagely wrenching clothes from hangers around him and tossing them in all directions, though he was careful not disturb the white jacket. A sob tore through him as he flung shoes against the walls, and he was taken by surprise when one ricocheted back on him, clipping his shoulder.

He stumbled, his foot becoming caught in the pile of clothes on the ground, and he fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands as the rage dissipated and he was overtaken by grief.

He had been right to do this in private; no one should have to witness such a display of self-pity.

He didn't know how long he was slumped there, crying noisy, sob filled tears. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, time froze as he wept for his lost future and his broken past.

Eventually the tears began to subside, his breathing regulated as he stared unseeing at the wall opposite him. His mind kept trying to ask him questions, kept prompting him to figure out what he was going to do now, how he was going to start again, but he shied away from such thoughts. It was far too early, and frankly, Draco couldn't see how he could start again, wasn't sure if he wanted to try.

From nowhere a knock came to the closet door, startling Draco out of his reverie. He knew he should be angry that someone had entered far enough into his room to be able to knock at the closet door, annoyed that a member of staff would disturb him, but then it occurred to him that, besides his mother and Dobbs, no one knew he was even in the house.

Slowly he rose from his position in the heap of clothes, his shaking hands scrubbing roughly at his tear stained face, and he turned towards the door as it knocked again, gasping as he took in the sight of the man before him.

Harry stood in the doorway at the end of the closet, his hair completely wild and his face deathly pale…and yet, he had never looked more beautiful. It was obvious even from where Draco stood that the other man had been crying, which reminded him of the state of his own face. Harry looked an absolute wreck, his rumpled suit and skewed glasses looking oddly foreign on his usually well presented body. Draco didn't know what to say, didn't know if he wanted to say anything to begin with. Harry simply stood there, staring at Draco with a strange, desperate expression, and it was all the blonde could do not to run towards him and collapse in his arms. But he knew why Harry was here, knew that no matter what Hermione had promised, she had told Harry her version of the truth, and he was here to have it out with him.

So, to say Draco was surprised by the words Harry eventually uttered would have been a major understatement,

"If you tell me she's lying…I'll believe you." Harry whispered, his voice breaking with such unadulterated pain it caused Draco physical agony, "Please."

Draco squeezed his eyes closed to fight another round of the noisy sobbing he had engaged in earlier, his pride desperately wanting to maintain at least a fragment of a cool façade. This wasn't fair, it wasn't fair! Harry wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to track him down, wasn't supposed to confront him. It was the whole reason Draco had run away…Harry wasn't meant to follow!

He heard movement, the sound of cloth rubbing together along with light footsteps, and he opened his eyes to find Harry stood in front him, close enough to touch.

He looked worse up close, Draco's mind distantly recognised. Thick black shadows sat beneath tired, dull green eyes, and it occurred to Draco that Harry must've slept poorly the night before, or maybe his blood sugar was low and the stress of the situation was making him worse. It sickened the blonde that he was causing Harry this discomfort, that he was making him so unhappy when all he really wanted to do was spend the rest of his days filling Harry's life with joy.

Harry's hand floated up out of nowhere and hesitantly rested against Draco's neck. The blonde trembled, Harry's ice cold skin frightening him, and he bit down on the inside of his lip as he fought to control himself.

"Please," Harry begged softly, his eyes boring into Draco's with a laser-like quality, as though he were trying to gaze into the depths of Draco's soul. "Tell me she's lying." he breathed, his frozen fingers shaking gently.

Draco could feel himself breaking, could feel his heart splintering inside his chest, and he swallowed down a sob that was creeping up his throat. He took a harsh step back to free himself of Harry's touch and slammed into a shelving system that was behind him. He gasped with surprise, his head turning to see what he had bumped into and his eyes landed on the garment he'd been admiring earlier - his most treasured possession. Hatred once again surged up inside him at the sight of it, because he couldn't tell Harry what he wanted to hear, he couldn't pretend that he was innocent…and he could never be the person he used to be, the person who should be wearing that jacket. Finally, he allowed the tears to well in his eyes. What was the use in hiding anymore?

"I can't tell you that, Harry." he whispered, his voice breaking as he uttered the other man's name.

Harry gazed at the blonde for a long moment; his breathing so ragged Draco feared he was hyperventilating.

He shook his head in denial, tears tumbling down his face. "I don't believe it," He moaned, running his hands through his hair causing it to stick up wildly in all directions. Draco didn't find it comical, didn't find it endearing that Harry had picked up his nervous habit. No, he found it gut-wrenching, because the dark haired man was radiating such absolute anxiety that it made the blonde want to fold him inside his arms and tell him that it was all just a huge mistake.

"Drugs! I don't believe that you would…! Drugs, Draco?! No!" Harry begged.

Draco didn't reply. He looked away from the man before him, shame washing over him in powerful, icy waves, and huge salty tears streamed rapidly over his cheeks.

When he spoke again, Harry's voice had changed; it was hard and betrayed, and Draco found it harder to hear then the pain, "My parents were killed by a man who was drunk and wasted!-" he gasped, his fists clenching at his sides.

Draco's eyes pinned themselves to Harry's hands, a small amount of fear simmering at the sight of them.

"-I told you that, I told you he was wasted! Why didn't you say anything, why didn't you do the decent thing?" He shouted.

"Harry, I'm sorry-" the blonde exclaimed, cowering against the shelves behind him. His stomach clenched tightly knowing that, with Harry stood angrily before him, he was trapped.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" Harry demanded, pointing his shaking finger accusingly, "Why didn't you tell me you were a fucking junkie before I went and fell for you!"

Draco's heart crumbled, his entire world crumbled. He didn't want to hear that, didn't want Harry to feel that way. He wished that the other man would take it back, to have never said it in the first place. Silence descended over the closet, betrayed green eyes gazing expectedly into shamed grey, and Draco found himself doing something he didn't want to do. He tried to defend himself.

"I'm not… a junkie, I would never…" He mumbled earnestly, shaking his head to emphasise his point. Harry stared at him for a moment, his face clouding over with confusion. "I don't understand." he whispered, a tinge of hope in his tone that whipped at Draco.

"You won't…you'll never understand - no one ever does!" Draco moaned, shaking his head again, this time with self-loathing.

Harry's desperation presented itself again. He stepped closer, so close that he was almost crushing Draco against the shelves behind him. His hands sought out the blondes, enclosing them in his own and bringing them up to his chest so they rested against his heart. Draco's eyes widened as he felt the soft thud through Harry's shirt and a sob tore through him without his permission. "Make me understand, Draco! Please."

Draco's head fell back against a shelf, desperately trying to avoid looking into the begging emerald eyes before him.

"Please, I'm begging you - I can't lose you," Harry whispered, his hand squeezing at Draco's fingers, "I need to believe that you're a good person, Draco, because I don't know what I'll do without you…please."

Draco's head fell to the side, his eyes once again connecting with the white jacket hanging on the rail to his right.

It was time. Time to stop running from who he was. Time to be honest.

"O.K." He whispered, tears cascading freely over his pale cheeks, "I'll tell you…I'll tell you the truth - all of it."

To be continued…


	14. Draco's story Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Graphic depictions of domestic violence and drug abuse.  
> Oh, Draco!

"Nice work today, Mr Malfoy." Professor Slughorn repeated for the millionth time that term as Draco exited his lecture. The biology professor had always been fairly fond of Draco, ever since his beady eyes had searched out his surname on the university register - after all, the son of the country's leading cardiologist was sure to be exciting to work with - not to mention the amount of contacts that could be made with such an influential family!

Draco lapped up the attention, regularly using it to his advantage - he hadn't once handed in an assignment on time since he had started at Beauxbaton University, and even rarely did he turn up to class on time. Though, Draco Malfoy was really quite gifted - a prodigy, one might say, and he was effortlessly passing every single class he took.

"Thank you, professor, I always try my very best." Draco drawled, his eyes rolling sarcastically as soon as he was out the door, bored of the professor's constant stream of arse-kissing.

He weaved his way through the bustling corridors, his destination being Pansy's Interior Design lecture that was about to finish a few buildings away. He stepped out into the courtyard and felt a small smile pull at his lips as the warm March sunshine washed over his face. Pulling his shades from his bag and sliding them on, Draco's soft blonde hair immediately fell in wisps over the lenses, and he sighed happily before continuing towards the Art and Design block.

To say Draco loved school would be a massive understatement, even if he did slack off in class. He adored university, adored the lifestyle, the mini-dramas that every student had before his very eyes. But most of all, he adored his career path - every lecture, every paper, every single word uttered about his chosen subject was exciting, mind-blowing!

Medicine. That one word gave Draco goosebumps, had given him goosebumps since the moment he'd been able to understand what it meant. From the age of 8, when children his age had been playing with video games, Draco had been camped out in his father's library learning everything he could about the human heart, and it had only intensified as the years passed.

He had watched his first by-bass at the age of 11, had witnessed a transplant at the age of 13 surrounded by medical students, and he had felt nothing but pride and excitement that both operations had been performed by his own father. Lucius had even asked Draco questions whilst he was operating, and had shone with pride when his young son had answered them correctly - something his students had neglected to achieve.

It had always been destined that Draco follow in his father's footsteps, and now that he was coming closer to that dream, he and Lucius could almost taste the triumph. The white coat that hung in Draco's wardrobe, the one his father had given him 2 years prior on his 18th birthday, the one that was inscribed 'Dr D. Malfoy - Cardiologist' was like a medal of honour. Draco was his father's protégé, and neither man could be more proud. Neither man could wait for the day that they would roam the same corridors, operate it the same theatres, could call on each other for a second opinion. Draco longed to be as successful and brilliant as his father, and Lucius knew that one day Draco would be better.

The dream was still slightly out of reach though, Draco still had his final exams to pass, and even though he had already been accepted at the hospital by his estimated grades alone, he still needed his actual grades to be allowed to begin training. Which was why he was still sauntering around campus, earning looks from everyone he passed.

He walked with confidence, a superior sneer on his face, an expensive, designer book bag slung across his expensive, cashmere sweater. Everything about Draco screamed wealth and perfection, from his designer shades right down to his designer shoes. His posture was impeccable, he was one of the most articulate students on campus, and he drove the sexiest sports car in town. Every guy wanted to be him, and every girl wanted to be with him.

And that was exactly how Draco liked it!

"Draco, sweetie!" Pansy called across the courtyard, gesturing madly from between a pair of overly tanned girls. Draco smiled widely at his long time best friend, the girl his parents hoped that he'd one day marry, and walked towards her with more haste.

Pansy Parkinson was as beautiful as Draco was handsome, and she was equally as gifted. Her eye for design and detail was impeccable and she was doing just as well at university as her friend. Pansy's future was just as bright as Draco's, even if their chosen professions were so very different.

There was one drawback to Pansy and Draco's shining futures…they were going to be forced to share it.

The Malfoy's and Parkinson's had arranged many years prior that their two heirs were to be betrothed, and both families were still fully intent on going through with the joining. Even if Pansy had recently met the love of her life in the form of a dashing trainee teacher, and Draco had a complete distaste to all females in general.

"Hello, Beautiful." Draco smiled as he drew level with his friend, leaning forward and kissing her forehead, "Forget the rest of your classes - I'm treating you to lunch!" He announced, pulling her book bag from her arm and shouldering her burden. He wondered idly if Gucci had decided to start lining their luggage with concrete because the bag weighed a ton.

"Well, I only have a colour and lighting lecture which will be as boring as hell - I mean, really, what kind of idiot doesn't know how to pair light and colour correctly..." Pansy asked, genuinely baffled as they made their way through the school grounds towards Draco's car.

Draco rolled his eyes at the girl beside him. He loved Pansy dearly, her earnest honesty and, at times, shallowness being a flaw as well as a quality, but he wouldn't have her any other way. Sometimes he wished he could love her in the way their families wanted, because it would be very easy to love Pansy - he just didn't have the right feelings.

"Where are we going for lunch then?" Pansy asked when she realised Draco was paying her slightly less attention then she'd usually expect. "I hope it's not the hospital canteen again, I know you love that place but really - their salad is as limp as an old man's…"

"We're not going to St. Mungo's!" Draco interrupted, before Pansy could display how very unladylike she could be at times, "Father has already informed me that he isn't operating today, so I'm not all that inclined to stop by," He assured his friend. Pansy had already made her feelings about blood and organs quite clear - she preferred for them to stay inside the body at all times! Catching the relieved sigh that escaped her, Draco couldn't help but tease her, "Maybe we'll go there tomorrow instead." He said, flashing a grin.

"Fantastic." Pansy laughed sarcastically, shoving the blonde as they walked. "Such an appetizing thought - Hmm, we'll have a 3 day old sandwich and then watch someone have their brain ripped out - can't wait!" She clapped her hands together in false enthusiasm and then immediately let them fall to her sides as she gazed pointedly at Draco.

"You know full well that I'm only interested in the heart, silly girl." He muttered, catching sight of his shiny red convertible in the car park and towing his friend toward it. "And the sandwiches are fresh everyday; it's a hospital not a prison."

"You say tomato…" She smirked as Draco dumped her bag on the back seat and they both slid into the car. He ignored her teasing and pulled out of the car park, driving at speed that would make normal people cringe.

"So, how's Blake? Told mummy and daddy about him yet?" Draco drawled, keeping one eye on the road as he turned to smirk at the girl beside him. He laughed to himself when a small rosy blush spread across her cheeks.

"You know full well that his name is Blaise - don't act like you don't know him, you spent 5 years at Durmstrang with him! And no, I haven't told them about him - as you well know. Do I look suicidal to you?" She hissed, pushing her fringe out of her eyes in irritation.

The whole betrothal situation really was a lot more stressful for Pansy then it was for Draco and the blonde felt slightly bad for bringing up the subject of her new boyfriend. After all, for Draco it was fairly easy to live with at the moment - he was single and that status didn't look much like changing anytime soon - he could carry on the charade and keep the secret of his sexuality under wraps effortlessly, whilst Pansy had to struggle with lies and deceit on a daily basis.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…how are things, really?" He asked gently, his eyes flicking back and forth between the road and his now statue-like best friend.

Pansy shrugged one of her shoulders, her head shaking slightly causing her glossy hair to fall from behind her ear and onto her face, hiding her expression. "You know what my parents are like, they suffocate me - all I want to do is introduce a guy whom I really…like, and I can't. I haven't even told Blaise that you and I are…! I just…don't want to talk about it; I'm tired of the politics and stuffiness of it all." She sighed.

Draco swallowed nervously, his hand moving from the steering wheel and sweeping through his hair. He had no idea Pansy felt that way, he'd neglected to realise just how difficult it was for her.

The classy, flashy restaurant they had been heading to suddenly seemed far less important to get to, and he slowed the car down as he quickly ran through other dining possibilities. Spotting a fast food place across the street, Draco was struck by inspiration. "How do you fancy a carb-fest?" He asked with a grin, "I might even treat you to a chocolate milkshake." He promised as he pulled the car into the car park, Pansy's face lighting up at the prospect of empty calories and sugar.

They sat in a booth in the corner of the restaurant, both holding trays full of junk food and smiled in anticipation of the happy hormones that would be unlocked by the greasy burgers and fries. They kept the conversation light, Draco even allowing Pansy to prattle on about her lectures in the hope that she would rise out of the little bout of misery that she'd sunk into in the car.

Draco found his attention wavering though, his eyes flickered around at the other customers and employees wandering around. One employee caught his eye as he swept passed their table, his strong, heavenly aftershave washing over Draco and causing his head to spin.

It was like the scent alone was enough, it had captured Draco's attention and was holding it firmly in place - and he hadn't even seen the guy's face yet!

"Hello! Are you even listening to me?" Pansy's annoyed voice hissed through his reverie. Draco shook his head slightly and focused on his irritated looking friend, a guilty expression sliding across his face.

"Sorry. Did you smell that guy? He was hot!" He whispered, his eyes once again roaming the room. He was disappointed when he didn't spot the mystery, fantastic smelling stranger at once, and found himself focusing on a couple across from them who seemed to be arguing instead.

"Erm, no, I don't go around sniffing people." Pansy smirked, shaking her head at Draco's blatant minute attention span. "What are you looking at now?" She asked not expecting an answer, concentrating on her burger when he, as predicted, ignored her.

Draco's eyes remained fixed on the arguing couple, his sense of smell ready to catch the stranger when he re-appeared. The woman looked to be harassing the man, who Draco now realised was pretty much gorgeous except for the odd green tinge to his skin. He looked as though he were either coming down with or just recovering from a bout of illness, and perhaps should be at home in bed rather than eating junk food. Draco wondered if that was why his lady friend was hassling him. The blonde didn't really find it necessary to analyse her, except for the cursory 'Frizzy hair, terrible dress sense, slight buck tooth' judgement. He quickly went back to studying the man, who was now leaning tiredly against his fist. His flimsy looking glasses were slightly askew, revealing thick dark circles beneath his dull green eyes. His hair was totally tragic, completely limp and lifeless and so dark it made his skin so pale he looked like a drowned person.

Draco leaned slightly toward them in the hope of catching their argument, and was pleased when small snippets carried over to him.

"I'm fine, 'Mione, I'm just a little tired, that's all," The weary looking man sighed, his voice sounding strained, as though it took great effort to speak. Even Draco could tell that the man was lying, and that in fact he was far from fine.

"Oh, please," The frizzy haired woman replied, shuffling through some papers in front of her, "You've been like this for weeks now, and you're getting worse. You're going to a doctor!" She ordered.

"I don't have time to go to a doctor; I don't have time to be ill! This case is going to pivotal to us having success with our own practice - we need this…"

"Stop that. We need you to be fit and well!" The woman interrupted, pointing her un-manicured finger at him. Draco suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the man opposite, he knew what it was like to want something so bad that a bout of illness wasn't going to stop him from getting it, but the woman seriously had a point - Draco was surprised the man hadn't collapsed yet.

He took an even closer look than before; looking for any obvious signs of illness now that he knew the man had yet to be diagnosed. He was swaying toward it being a virus or a bug, some unseasonable weather causing a little trouble with that recently. Or perhaps the man was just stressed? Draco was almost inclined to go and ask, the mystery fascinating him - after all, Draco lived for medicine, this was like sex for him. He felt himself begin to rise from his seat, his eyes still locked on the oblivious, deathly looking man. He heard Pansy's curious voice question where he was going, when all of a sudden there it was, that smell again.

He had only meant to glance at the stranger who smelled so good, still fully intent in going over to the couple. So when his eyes landed on the wearer, the most stunningly handsome man Draco had ever seen in his life, every other thought flew from his brain.

He paused, hovering over his seat, torn. He couldn't remember why he was going to stand, and automatically fell back into a sitting position. The man, who's name badge read Theo (Theo, what a gorgeous, unusual name!) stood by their table, his expression beautifully expectant as he gazed at Draco.

It occurred to Draco that perhaps he should say something, that judging by the way he was being studied he was supposed to be replying. "I'm sorry, what?" He asked, mortified by the pitch of his voice. He sounded as though he had just hit puberty.

Theo smiled mischievously, his hand signalling the empty tray in front of Draco, "I asked if you would like me to take care of that for you?" He said, his rough voice the sexiest thing Draco had ever heard.

He licked his lips at the innuendo, quickly clearing his throat so that when he spoke he sounded seductive rather than awkward. "I'd like that, thank you." He replied thinking of the erection that had just sprung to life beneath the table.

He could almost taste Pansy's disgust from across the table, "Oh my god, I just threw up in my mouth," He heard her mumble under her breath, and he hoped that Theo hadn't heard her too. Judging by the small smirk on his face as he walked away, he had.

"Thanks so much for that." He hissed at her as soon as Theo was out of earshot.

Pansy simply shrugged, uncaring that she might've embarrassed her friend, "That'll teach you for ignoring me, what was so interesting about those tragic nerds anyway?" She asked, glancing at the now empty table where the couple had been sitting. Draco, who had forgotten about the ill looking man until that point, glanced around, his curiosity once again piqued at the unsolved mystery. He found himself slightly disappointed that he'd never know what was wrong with oddly beautiful, but deathly looking, stranger.

"I don't know, the guy looked ill, I wanted to know what was wrong." He replied to Pansy's question, turning back to find her expression incredulous. "What?" He asked.

"You can't even sit in McDonald's without acting all Dr Draco; you seriously need to get a life!" She quipped, shaking her head at her weird friend.

Draco thought his chances of actually getting a life would be a little better if she didn't go around embarrassing him on the one occasion a hot guy actually spoke to him.

When they were done, they decided to head back to University and wow their professors during the last lectures of the day rather than slacking off home. Besides, Draco really wanted to start knuckling down with exams being in a few weeks.

As they made their way out of the restaurant, Draco felt a soft, warm hand close around his elbow, and he turned to find Theo standing close enough to make Draco's erection make itself present again. Pansy had continued out the door, not even noticing that Draco had stopped, for which he was grateful. He swallowed as he felt Theo's breath against the side of his neck, and he got the sudden urge to pull him forward and kiss him.

What felt like a napkin was shoved into the back pocket of Draco's jeans, the hand that made the transaction sweeping suggestively over his arse, cupping it slightly. "Call me." Theo whispered, before his presence disappeared, and Draco stumbled out into the car park with a dazed grin spreading across his face.

Maybe he was about to get a life after all, he thought in disbelief.

*******************

Life turned around swiftly from the point Draco met Theo, and the blonde man certainly wasn't complaining. The confident, out-going fast food waiter was so different from anything Draco was used to that he felt himself being swept away in a tide of excitement and naïveté.

Theo was quite possibly the most delectable male to ever walk the planet - his tall muscular frame and cropped brown hair being the polar opposite to Draco's distinctly feminine form - and he often wondered if he was dreaming. Surely this ruggedly sexy and happy-go-lucky guy wasn't interested in stiff, snobby, nerdy Draco - but he was, Theo found Draco's interest in science and medicine fascinating.

Their first date was supposed to take place at the posh restaurant that Draco had planned to take Pansy the day he met Theo, but as soon as he found out that Draco was obsessed with the hospital and all things medical, Theo insisted that they go there and that the blonde man give him a tour.

To say he was over the moon was an understatement, and as soon as they stepped through the automatic doors of St. Mungo's, Draco transformed from suave and sophisticated, to nerdy and mesmerized, and Theo laughed at the change.

Draco worried as they made their way to Cardio that Theo was bored, but he worried even more that his father would question why he was with the gorgeous man in the first place. Theo certainly didn't look like the type of person a Malfoy would befriend, and he was sure that Lucius would notice the spark between the two young men, even if they weren't flaunting the fact that they were on a date.

Fortunately, the date went well, and Lucius was no where to be seen. The fact that Draco and Theo ended up in a supply cupboard that the blonde knew to be completely abandoned having the most exciting sex Draco had ever had was surely a good sign that the date was a success.

Pansy took to Theo like oil to water, her instant dislike aggravating Draco beyond reason, but the funny thing was that Theo was equally disenchanted with her. The few occasions that they had met in the beginning of their relationship, Draco had noticed that Pansy and Theo would exchange measured, challenging looks, and would at times begin a war of words that Draco found almost impossible to keep up with.

Pansy wasn't shy about expressing her dislike for the newcomer, outwardly telling Draco that she felt something was amiss, that Theo wasn't good enough for her friend and should be disposed of quickly.

Draco had become blinded; Pansy had decided a month into his infatuation with the rough, uncultured plebian. She had tried her best to show Draco just how murky Theo's true colours were, to no avail.

What was worse was that Draco was neglecting his studies, his exams were practically on top of him and he had yet to be seen with a book. Of course Pansy blamed the McDonald's lacky, and knew that if she could speak to Draco's father, he'd soon get his son's focus back on his career. Obviously that was something she couldn't do as Lucius had no idea as to Draco's sexuality, new boyfriend or the fact that he was currently walking a tight rope that could jeopardize his entire life. And as selfish as it sounded, Pansy couldn't risk the fall out that would come if Lucius discovered Draco's secret, the implications for her were unbearable to think about.

So, it continued, and Pansy watched in horror as Draco and Theo moved in together - completely under the parental radar - and began spending every single second in each other's company. The blonde continually dropped out of plans he had made with his friends and missed important gatherings with his family, and it was Pansy who was having to pick up the slack, lying for him when his parents asked where he was and how he was doing.

And when the time came for their exams, Draco looked completely unprepared, dark shadows ringing his eyes as though he hadn't slept in weeks, and any conversation he had was always about Theo - who to Pansy, it seemed, only ever sat around playing video games whilst drinking beer.

Pansy wanted nothing more than to shake some sense into her best friend, to scream at him that Theo was a loser and that he was dragging Draco down, that if he wasn't careful he'd lose his entire future and there would be nothing he could do to rectify it. But she didn't, she kept her silence with great difficulty because she didn't want to pile a ton of stress on top of her friend whilst he was sitting the most important exams of his life. There was no way that she'd be the one to wreck his career, apparently that was Theo's aim in life.

The night of their final exam was when things took an almighty turn for the worst.

The Parkinson's and Malfoy's had arranged a small party to celebrate the end of their children's university career, inviting top professionals in Pansy and Draco's chosen fields to give them a taste of what lay in store for them.

Draco had neglected to invite Theo, something Pansy was thrilled about. She knew this was her chance to drum some sense into the blonde without his shadow looming over him, and she was going to grab it with both hands.

Things were going well, and for the first time since he had met his unworthy partner, Draco actually looked excited about medicine again, and Pansy hoped that his passion for the science would somehow overthrow his passion for his lover. It couldn't be about balance, the scales were already laden down enough as it was, Theo was tipping it too far out of sync and something was going to give - it would either be Draco's future or Pansy's that was going to suffer, and neither sounded appealing.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Draco teased in a cheerful voice, an hour or so into the soirée. He looked so relaxed and stress-free that Pansy debated whether she should bring the subject up or not, it was sure to cause tension, and that was last thing she wanted. But it had to be done, she thought as she took in the changing expression on the blonde man's face, he had to be told - and judging by the hard look in his eyes he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

"Pans', I hope this isn't going to be one of those conversations where you tell me I'm an idiot for staying with a man who makes me insanely happy…because I think you know what my response will be." He warned, swirling a flute of champagne around in his hand, his silver eyes leaving hers to concentrate on the liquid. Pansy hated it when he did that because she could no longer read the emotions flitting through them. Draco had always had expressive eyes, even when they were young. Pansy could always tell how he was feeling simply by glancing at them, something Draco was highly aware of and did his best to avoid. Like now.

She sighed deeply, battling with herself to keep her cool and maintain civil conversation. "I would never call you an idiot, Draco. However, I do think you're being incredibly foolish-"

"Foolish?" Draco quipped, shaking his head exasperatedly. "Oh, forgive me for falling for the man of my dreams." he whispered, his tone turning sharp. "I forgot that it's only you that's allowed to be happy!"

"What you're forgetting is that we're supposed to be getting married in a year's time! Have you told Theo that?" She sniped, spitting Theo's name as though it tasted bad.

"Have you told Blaise?" He retorted, his eyes narrowing. Pansy recoiled slightly, glancing around to see if anybody had heard. Mercifully they were standing in a deserted corner and their conversation was private.

"Blaise understands our customs, he knows that we have no choice - I doubt Theo will be as understanding!" Pansy exclaimed, her temper flaring at the cold reception she was getting from her friend.

Draco's eyes widened, anger flaring in their depths "Surely you're not still intent on actually going ahead with this shambles!" He whispered harshly, gazing around at the people surrounding them, "I think people will notice the fact that I prefer my boyfriend to my wife-"

"Don't you dare do this to me, Draco Malfoy!" Pansy spat, fear washing over her, "Don't you dare pull out of this marriage, you selfish prick."

"Me, selfish?" Draco asked nastily, using a tone he had never used with the girl before him, "I don't think wanting to live my life the way I want is selfish!"

"Yes it is! You know what will happen if you pull out now, you know they'll find someone else - they'll make me marry a complete stranger! And I doubt I'll be fortunate enough to get another guy who finds me so distasteful!" Pansy snapped, flinging her hair over her shoulder in aggravation. She couldn't believe that he was going to do this to her, he was going to wreck everything.

Draco gazed at Pansy's face for a long moment, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down from behind his tie as he nervously swallowed. What was he saying? Of course he would still marry her, he wouldn't back out now. They had a plan - get married, have separate lives together and then divorce after a year.

"Pans', I'm sorry, of course I'm not pulling out -" He began to reassure her.

"Well, well, well, didn't think I'd find out about your little party, huh?" A rough voice called out, and Draco's blood turned to ice. No, no, not now!

Theo paced across the room, a butler trying to restrain him with little success, his expression looking completely put out. Draco panicked, could feel Pansy begin to panic beside him, and his eyes immediately searched out his father in the hopes that he had been called away. Silver met silver, and Draco's stomach dropped.

"I can't believe you, is this how little you think of me - you sneak around and have secret parties without even informing me!" Theo asked, glaring at Draco with such a devastated expression it broke the blonde man's heart.

He glanced at Pansy who looked furious at their interruption, her chocolate brown eyes boring into the side of Theo's face as though she could glare him into non-existence. He could see his father from the corner of his eye making his way over to them, a hard, threatening set to his eyes. Draco could feel himself shaking, champagne from his flute sloshing over the rim of the glass as he tried to figure out what to do.

His father was going to demand to know who Theo was and what he was doing there, dressed in a tracksuit, no less! And Draco didn't know how he was going to answer the questions, because either way he'd be screwed. If he told his father the truth as to who Theo was, he'd be disowned and Pansy would be married off to god-knows-who. But if he lied and denied any relationship with Theo, he'd lose Theo.

Pansy watched helplessly as her life crumbled down around her. Watched as Lucius descended on her best friend, as Theo bullied Draco into confessing the truth, as Lucius looked away with disappointment and Draco fled the room with the obnoxious Theo following close behind.

That was the last time Pansy saw her best friend, the last time she would see Draco Malfoy - the person who she had grown up with, who she'd admired and respected, and who was so full of ambition and life that it made her brain hurt just trying to keep up with him.

At first she was furious with him, hated him for siding with a man he'd known for such a short time, leaving her to have to fight for her freedom against her parents. Pansy's parents were no longer speaking with her, her relationship with a man they had not chosen seeming to be a disgrace in their eyes. She blamed Draco, but part of her ached for him, missed him beyond comprehension.

She called Narcissa regularly, the blonde woman giving her updates about her estranged friend whenever she enquired. Narcissa was more than a little disappointed that she wouldn't be getting Pansy as a daughter-in-law and frequently expressed this in their many conversations. She wished on more than one occasion that she and Draco would begin speaking again with little success. As much as Pansy missed him, she could not forgive him. Ever.

Still, she enquired, and found that he had passed his exams as expected, began training at St. Mungo's as expected, and spent a very large portion of his life in the company of his father at the hospital. This pleased Pansy for two reasons. The first reason, the reason she'd admit to, was that - if Draco spent so much time at the hospital then he was spending little time with Theo. The second reason, the one Pansy would admit to no-one, was that if Draco was spending time with Lucius, it meant the older Malfoy had accepted his son for who he was - something that Draco had feared for many years wouldn't happen.

As the months stretched on Narcissa's updates began to change, and when it hit the year and a half mark, they became frightening.

Pansy dreaded each call she made to her friend's mother because the news was rarely good anymore. Draco had begun to withdraw, had been seen sporting bruises that came with unlikely excuses, and was constantly on edge, jumping at the smallest of sounds and cowering from anyone who came near him. He was messing up at the hospital and going for days without sleeping or eating, and Lucius was on the verge of signing him off - something that apparently scared the hell out of Draco and had caused him to physically beg his father to reconsider.

The thing that scared Pansy the most was that, if things carried on the way they were - with Draco taking such poor care of himself - the next phone call she might receive would be that Draco had somehow managed to harm himself…or worse.

***************

Draco's feet reluctantly climbed the stairs that led to the apartment he shared with Theo, his body relishing in the last few moments of peace before he was thrust back into the reality of his life.

He ached all over, and he was tired - dog tired. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept well, couldn't remember eating a meal or just taking the time to think. He hadn't thought for himself in such a long time - he wasn't all that sure he could even do it anymore.

But then that wasn't altogether true, because he had been thinking, thinking long and hard, and he'd finally come to a decision - was finally going to put his foot down, and even though that thought terrified him, even though he still had bruises littering his body from other times he'd tried to put his foot down, he was going to stick with it this time. This subject was far too important to be ignored any longer.

He entered the flat with slight apprehension, steeling himself for the fall-out that was about to occur. He dropped his bag by the door in the hall and made his way through to the lounge where Theo was sat in front of the T.V.

Draco cringed as he realised how bad his timing was, his resolve faltering a little as his eyes followed the syringe Theo was filling at the coffee table.

His mind flew back to the first time he'd witnessed such a scene. When he'd bounced his way through the flat after another thrilling day at the hospital, surprising Theo by coming home early after he had traded a shift.

His world tumbled down around him as he took in the sight of his boyfriend, slumped against the couch with a belt around arm, inserting a needle into his veins with shaking hands.

Draco had been devastated, and after Theo had beaten him for coming home early, the apologetic man had pleaded with Draco to stay with him and to help him.

So it was then that Draco had started trying to save him, and had started destroying his own life in the process. He had begun replacing the heroin Theo had be using with Methadone, stealing quantities of it from the hospital pharmacy by flirting with the girl that worked there, and administering it to him in a controlled way.

But then, that soon spiralled out of control, too. Theo demanded more, demanded that he shoot up himself, and it was left to Draco to try and maintain his new habit. He worried constantly that he'd be caught stealing, that his father would find out and have him dismissed.

But he wouldn't have to worry much longer, because it was going to stop, before Draco lost his career and Theo lost his life.

He watched as Theo expertly filled his syringe with his sacred poison, and a torrent of self-loathing crashed over Draco. He had done this; he had caused this ritual addiction that had turned the man before him from a lovely, caring human to a desperate, dirty junkie.

It was Draco's fault, and now was the time to fix it. Now was the time to start setting things right, because he wasn't going to do this anymore, he wasn't going to steal, and lie, and continue to wreck people's lives. It was going to stop. Right now.

"That's it, that's all you're getting - I'm not getting anymore Meth." He whispered, his eyes now fixed on Theo's face, bracing himself for the fall out.

At first Theo looked as though he hadn't heard him, he just continued preparing his fix, his intent eyes gazing reverently at the liquid, and Draco began to tense in anticipation. Calmly and silently, Theo lay the needle down on the coffee table, before he turned and looked at Draco - his eyes dead.

Theo's fist connected with Draco's jaw before he even had a chance to blink, and the blonde tumbled to the ground with a shocked yell of surprise.

The surprise quickly morphed to terror when Theo's foot swung out and slammed into Draco's chest, before it disappeared only to repeat the action again and again. Draco cried out, disbelief overshadowed by pain as each blow of his boyfriend's foot left a cracked or broken rib in its wake, and it was all too soon before Draco began coughing, blood flying from his mouth as errant kicks to his torso connected with his face instead.

"You think that hurts, you fucking ponce? You think that's pain?" Theo yelled, delivering more enraged blows, "You don't know what pain is, you haven't got a fucking clue! I'll show you how it feels, how much it hurts to be without it!" he bellowed, sending one last kick into Draco's gut before crossing the room, heading toward the coffee table.

Draco's brain understood what Theo was going to do, made the connection with sickening confidence, but he couldn't move, couldn't begin to imagine how he was going to stop the inevitable.

"You're gonna get me more!" Theo whispered menacingly, and Draco cringed as he felt his lover's body hover over his own. "Promise me you'll get it or I'll kill you, Dray. There's enough in here to kill a little twat like you!" he breathed in Draco's ear, and the blonde felt the sharp end of a needle dragging against the skin of his arm, not quite piercing it but threatening to at the slightest movement. "Promise me!"

Fear and horror and desperation crashed into Draco because he had no doubt that Theo meant what he was saying, and his body felt as though a lead weight was pressing down against it, crushing him completely. He knew he'd only have a split second to act, his only chance of getting away being to knock the syringe from his boyfriend's hand and making a run for it, and with that thought in mind - and a shot of pure adrenaline racing through his veins- Draco threw his body to the side sending Theo rolling across the floor, the syringe flying from his hand in the process.

Not even checking to see if Theo had retrieved the dose of poison, Draco jumped painfully to his feet and flew into the hall, slipping on the rug as it slid across the wooden flooring, but he didn't stop, he couldn't stop. Theo was close behind, the slight head start Draco had being the only thing keeping the enraged man from closing in. The bathroom door loomed in sight, the only room with a lock, and Draco upped his pace, ignoring the searing pain that tore through his ribs. He was willing to bet everything he had that a number of them were broken.

"You think you can get away from me, Dray? I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Theo roared from behind him as Draco tripped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Without pausing for breathe, he fumbled clumsily with the lock, sliding the bolt across and leaning against the wood.

Theo wasted no time in taking his anger out on the door, his fists slamming against the wood and beating against Draco's back. "Open this fucking door, you fucking idiot!" He screamed as he upped his tempo, kicking as well as punching now.

Hot tears pooled in Draco's eyes, and he squeezed them shut as he desperately tried to think of a way out. A sob ripped through his body as he slid down the door, and he fell to pieces in a heap on the floor. Everything hurt, his entire body hurt. He was afraid of what he must look like, the damage Theo had done to him, but more afraid of the damage he was yet to endure, because he fully believed that the man on the other side of the door had every intention of fulfilling his promise - Theo was mad enough to kill him.

Draco's swollen eyes connected with the hamper that was filled with fresh towels beneath the sink, and it was like a lifeline had been thrown to him - because in that hamper was the mobile phone Draco had hidden in there when he had found Theo shooting up heroin. Disgust tore through him when he realised he'd been expecting this all along, had been expecting Theo to turn on him - and he'd stayed anyway.

With Theo still abusing the bathroom door, the wood trembling dangerously, Draco knew it was time to act. Throwing himself to his feet, ignoring the pain tearing through him, he dived towards the hamper, upending it, spilling towels all over the floor. He searched desperately through the linen; sobbing harder the longer it took to locate the phone.

A small black device fell from the middle of a rolled up washcloth, and with a shuddering gasp of relief, he grabbed it with shaking hands.

The door rattled loudly, the wood vibrating dangerously, and Draco's eyes flashed up as the screws holding the lock in place began to give way. Terrified that Theo was going to kick the door open, Draco crossed the bathroom and slammed against it, hoping his weight would keep it held shut.

He began fumbling desperately with the mobile phone, and he sobbed as he switched it on and found that the battery was low - there would barely be enough life to dial anyone.

Without thinking, his fingers flashed clumsily across the keys, dialling the only number he could think of as the door once again crashed behind him.

"Please, please, pick up, please." He begged desperately as the ring tone stretched on, and he felt vomit rise up his throat as an answer machine kicked in. The low battery alert bleeped in his ear and he knew he only had this call; he'd have to speak to the machine and hope it was answered.

"Pansy…Pansy, please, if you're there, please answer me." He pleaded, his voice breaking as the slamming of the door increased.

"Who the fuck are you talking to? Get out here NOW!" Theo bellowed savagely.

Draco felt his heart sink when he was greeted with silence at the end of the line. She wasn't going to answer. He was alone, and it was his own fault.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you, you were right…you were right. I love you, Pans'-" He cried, his hands shaking so badly he was in danger of dropping the phone.

"What are you doing in there? I'm going to fucking kill you!" Theo screamed again. He threw himself against the door and this time it gave way, and Draco cried out as he uselessly tried to push it closed again. The phone fell to the floor where it bounced off a towel and fell out of sight behind the sink, and Draco's life practically ended before his eyes. He was done for, this was it.

"Help," He cried uselessly, "Please, someone help me."

The door finally smashed open, an animalistic roar mingled with the splintering of the door frame as it gave way to the savage beating it had endured.

Draco flew across the room as the door burst open, sliding across the floor as he slipped on a towel, and he cried out as he began to fall. There was nothing he could do; no way he could brace himself up as he came closer to the sink basin. He saw it happen before it actually did, but that didn't make the crack of his scull against the porcelain any less painful, didn't stop his vision from flickering, or stop his brain from immediately shutting down.

The last thing he heard as he crashed to the ground, before Theo grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged his unconscious body out of the room and towards the lounge, was Pansy's desperate voice screaming Draco's name before the battery bleeped and died.

To Be Continued…


	15. Draco's story part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Oh Draco, I am so sorry!   
> Also, this chapter contains drug use and graphic domestic violence, so if that is a trigger for you - please be aware.

Pansy ran. In stiletto heels and a pencil skirt, she ran through the streets of London, dodging passers-by unsuccessfully as she stumbled and tripped over errant paving slabs.

Her hair fell from its perfectly styled bun, loose strands cascading over her face and shoulders, but she ignored it – just as she ignored the cries of outrage when she crashed into strangers in her way and did nothing but continue running.

Her mind was a crazy jumble of thoughts. Fear, panic, outrage, guilt – a torrent of emotions she couldn't even begin to process crashed through her system, each fighting for dominance. For now though, fear was winning.

Draco was afraid, had sounded more afraid than Pansy had ever heard him, and it was Theo that he feared. The sounds of Draco's cries, followed by a series of crashes and enraged bellows, told Pansy all she had needed to know – that this was the call she'd been dreading, the one she'd been waiting for. Theo was hurting her Draco, and she'd sprint across London – across burning hot coals – to come to his aide.

She was too far away though, at least 10 minutes flat out running (and that estimation was accounting for correct footwear) If Theo was hurting Draco, then she didn't have 10 minutes. It only took seconds to really harm someone...to kill...but she couldn't think that, couldn't complete that thought, because if she lost Draco – really and truly lost him forever – then part of her would be lost too. He was her soul mate – her kindred spirit – they were two halves of the same whole, and if one half disappears, how does the other continue to be?

But she was jumping ahead of herself, she thought as she ran blindly across a main road, narrowly missing a speeding taxi. She had no information yet, nothing but Draco's terrified screams for help and Theo's bellows of 'I'm going to kill you'...

She paused for a fraction of a second, the fear momentarily being replaced by overwhelming panic. She stood in the middle of the street, onlookers gazing at her warily as she remained frozen in place.

Theo threatened to kill him...He's going to kill him? Tears sprang instantly to Pansy's eyes, hot gushing tears that fell over her cheeks, sending streams of mascara trickling from her lashes. In an instant, Pansy bent down, wrenched the stilettos from her feet and began sprinting again – only this time, she was pushing obstructions from her path rather than dodging them.

Draco needed her, and she'd be damned if she was going to let him down.

************

Pain. If one word could sum up his life in that instant, it was pain - A complete world of pain. But pain wasn't even the right word, not really. It was too weak, too subtle. What he was experiencing was agony, torture! He wondered if he was dead, if Theo had finally put him out of his misery – but then, surely if he was dead, the pain would have disappeared – and there was a lot of pain. So perhaps he only felt dead, but was still alive to suffer it.

He could hear the ragged breathing of his boyfriend from somewhere above his head, and the sensation of being held down by a large weight across his stomach. His arms were being crushed, as though they were trapped in vices and his hands were ice cold from the interruption of the blood flow.

He was afraid to move, to open his eyes – to breathe! He didn't want to alert Theo to his consciousness, afraid that if he did, another bout of violence would begin. But he worried that, with his eyes closed, he was missing something important - that Theo was doing something that needed Draco's attention, and playing dead was only making things worse.

Just as he decided to open his eyes, Theo apparently cottoned on.

"I know you're awake, you posh twat," He spat, and before Draco could react, Theo's hand connected with his cheek in a sharp slap, snapping his head to the side with the force, "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" He asked, with a growl.

Draco swallowed back the bile that rose through his throat. Fear like none he'd felt before slammed into him harder than any punch Theo could throw at him, and it pinned him even harder to the ground. He didn't know what to do, what to say – Theo had never been this aggressive before, had never made him lose consciousness, had never threatened to kill him!

"Who were you talking to?" Theo asked savagely, and the weight across Draco's stomach shifted. It was then that it occurred to him that the weight was Theo himself, straddling him across the waist, and the vices his arms were locked in weren't vices at all – his arms were clamped beneath Theo's knees, restraining him.

Suddenly, a hand appeared in his hair, brutally pulling the strands from the roots, and Draco's eyes flew open as he gasped in pain. Theo's face was inches from his own, an animalistic glint in his bloodshot eyes, spittle flying from his mouth as he yelled directly into Draco's face, "Who the fuck were you talking to?" and with a frustrated growl, he slammed Draco's head against the wooden flooring.

Draco cried out as his head exploded with pain, and the image of Theo before him blurred and flickered. A deafening roar echoed inside his eardrums, like a drum beat being played right beside his head. He didn't answer the enraged man's question, knowing that the answer would cause a worse reaction than staying silent. A majority of the all the fights they had ever had were about Pansy, after all.

"Do you think this hurts, Dray?" Theo snarled when he didn't receive his answer, and he visibly grew angrier. With another growl of dissatisfaction, he once again slammed Draco's head into the hard flooring, "I'll make you fucking hurt, you little prick!"

As quick as lightening, the hand disappeared from Draco's hair, but before he could be grateful, Theo's fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch, "ANSWER ME!" he roared.

Draco felt hot tears roll from his eyes as agony radiated through his skull, and for the first time in his life he wanted to die. He wanted Theo to hit his head one more time and for the blow to be fatal, because this was it for him now – his future was to be Theo's punch bag, to live in fear that the wrong move would end in torture. Just like now.

"Look at you, you're pathetic!" Theo barked, spitting in Draco's face, "You're disgusting, do you know that – do you have any idea how lucky you are to have me? Because no-one else would want you, you're an idiot!"

Draco had heard all of this before, had heard it over and over again until it had started to make sense. How well he knew he wasn't worthy of anyone. Love, after all, caused pain, was poison – a much more lethal poison than the one Theo flushed through his veins.

"I know," He murmured monotonously, staring at the space beneath the couch. He couldn't move his head to look at Theo, he couldn't move at all. His entire body was drained, waiting for the chance to give up.

"Say it!" Theo demanded, his face once again inches from Draco's, only this time he was whispering in his ear. Draco cringed when teeth scraped across his earlobe, hot breath washing across his neck, "Say you're an idiot."

Draco didn't reply, just continued to stare ahead, waiting for it to be over. Theo's breathing picked up the longer he stayed silent and Draco steeled himself for another blow to the head, welcomed it almost.

However, Theo changed tactics. His hands suddenly appeared around Draco's throat, his grip unyieldingly tight. His windpipe was instantly cut off, his empty lungs feeling as though they had burst into flames from lack of oxygen. Adrenaline raced through his veins, survival instinct trying to force him to fight back, but he remained limp, willing himself to die.

"Say it or I'll kill you!" Theo snarled, his fingers flexing.

Black spots exploded across Draco's vision, the drumming in his ears becoming louder and louder until it was all he could hear. He hoped this was death. "Do it..." He gasped quietly, "...please!"

The corners of his brain began to fray, to disconnect from the whole. A fog crept in, cloaking his senses, shutting off parts it didn't need, trying to protect him from the inevitable.

But it stopped. Theo's hands disappeared, his airway opened again, and his lungs pulled in as much oxygen as it could. Disappointment flooded Draco's body as his brain repaired itself, reversed the temporary shut-down it had begun. Gasping air, his chest heaving with the effort, he found that he was still restrained – Theo still held him down.

Suddenly, something sharp stabbed the crook of his elbow, and he gasped in shock. The adrenaline he had felt earlier kicked in again, and he was able to turn his head to look at his arm. Shock and terror smashed into him as he took in the image of the syringe inserted in his flesh - Theo's thumb against the plunger, threatening to inject the full chamber of Methadone into Draco's vein.

"Say it! Tell me you're an idiot, or I'll do it!" He warned, his voice dangerously low, almost a purr.

Draco gazed at the syringe, overwhelming terror already coursing through his system, turning his blood to ice. This wasn't right; this wasn't how it was supposed to end – not like this! He began to struggle, trying in vain to release his arms from the vices of Theo's legs, careful not to disturb the needle poking out of his right arm.

Theo laughed at his attempts to free himself, his knees pressing even harder against Draco's arms, holding them still, "Last chance..." He smiled, his lips pulled over his teeth in a terrifying leer.

"I'm an idiot!" Draco yelled, desperate to have the needle out of his arm. He'd have said anything at that point.

A loud series of bangs followed his admission, and both men stared at each other with confusion for a fraction of a second before the cause of the noise was explained.

"Draco? Draco, answer the door, sweetie!" Pansy practically screamed through the letterbox on the front door.

Cold, hard dread washed through Draco's system. Theo stared at him, his face becoming redder and redder as the seconds passed. Pansy continued thumping at the front door, shouting continual threats to call the police and have someone smash the door down as she did so. Theo was livid, his grip on the syringe in his hand turning his knuckles white and the whole thing quivered.

"You were talking to her?" He whispered, his eyes wide and wild with fury, "You were talking to HER?" he screeched, his free hand once again grabbing at Draco's hair, pulling his head towards him, "That fucking whore!" He bellowed loud enough for Pansy to hear.

Draco's head smashed into the floor again with an echoing thump, but rather than wishing to die, he prayed he'd live. Pansy was in danger, standing right outside the flat, and the only thing keeping her safe was the fact that the psychopath on the other side of the door was already occupied. He had to warn her, even if it was detrimental to his own life – he couldn't, wouldn't let Theo hurt her.

"Pansy, run! Please, just run!" He yelled as loudly as he could, hoping that for once in her life she took his advice and ran.

In an instant, everything changed. An eerie silence followed his cry for Pansy to leave – the door paused in its banging, Theo paused in his tirade, and Draco stopped breathing - as the world around him truly exploded.

Pansy's screams outside in the hall beyond the front door screeched to the point of being inaudible, and the door rattled as she thumped and kicked at it. Her cries for someone to help caused other residents to congregate at the door, apparently attempting to help her.

But it was too late. The world moved in slow motion as Draco watched Theo push the plunger on the syringe all the way to the bottom of the chamber, injecting the lethal dose of Methadone into Draco's bloodstream, before he jumped off his body and stood over him, a nasty leering smile on his face, "This is for your own good...you need to understand that you're nothing but a jumped up little prick. Say hi to Daddy for me," he sneered before turning and leaving the room.

For a whole shuddering heartbeat Draco stared at the syringe still sticking out of his arm, physically feeling the drug begin to work its way through his body - Shock and disbelief filtering through his veins just as quickly. Theo had actually done it, had actually poisoned him. An echoing crack ran straight down the centre of Draco's heart, causing the organ to crumble into tiny pieces. The man he loved wanted him dead – it was a horrendous idea to swallow, and it hurt almost as much as a physical blow. Draco wasn't sure that he'd ever recover from that. But then he remembered Pansy...standing directly in Theo's path.

With one more shot of adrenaline, Draco awkwardly wrenched himself into a standing position, grabbing hold of furniture to try and support himself – doing his best to ignore the agony that burst to life in varying parts of his battered body. He swayed unsteadily; his vision blurring as he tried to walk forward with the ground tilting and sliding beneath his feet but he continued on – the sound of Pansy's screeching voice spurring him on...

But he couldn't do it. He reached the lounge door and tumbled to the ground with a thud, his heart beating so fast it felt as though it were vibrating against his ribs, attempting to smash a hole through his chest.

His lungs burnt again, only this time it was with the effort to manage too much oxygen – and he gasped and panted so forcefully that he began hyperventilating. His ears roared and his vision exploded with colour and light, blinding him – and his panic increased tenfold.

He needed to help Pansy, he needed to protect her, but most of all – he needed to tell her that her that she meant everything to him, and he'd spent every waking moment regretting losing her. For as long or as short as he'd live, Draco would never forgive himself for choosing Theo over her, and he'd spend just as long trying to make that up to her.

****************

Pansy smashed at the front door of Draco's flat with as much strength as she could muster, her feet slamming into the wood with just as much vigour. She screamed and shouted and threatened, but nothing was working – no noise came from the flat, and she began to worry that she'd gotten the wrong address.

But then she heard it, the rough snarling voice of the man she hated beyond any kind of reason - Theo, speaking in his uncultured, idiotic vocabulary – swearing and insulting with each filthy word. She paused in her assault of the door to listen, desperately hoping to hear Draco's voice so she'd know he was OK. However, when she did hear him, dread and panic washed over her like a bucket of ice cold water.

"Pansy, run! Please, just run!" Draco cried, his voice strained and rough as though it took everything for him to produce the sound. She stood frozen for a second, swallowing back the fear that had exploded within her, before it burst out of her.

"Help, please, someone help me, PLEASE!" she screamed, throwing herself against the wooden door separating her from her best friend. "Please, anyone, help me!"

The man in the flat opposite Draco's opened his door to see what the commotion was, apparently waiting until Pansy had asked for help before coming to her aide, "What's wrong, love?" The tall, stocky man asked, closing the space between the two flats in 3 strides. "Is everything alright?" he asked stupidly in a low, cave-man like voice.

"Does it look as though everything's alright?" Pansy screeched, hitting at the door again with her high heel shoes, "My friend is hurt and I can't get to him!" she added, tears pouring down her face once again.

Another man appeared, walking down the stairs from an upper floor. He looked just as burly and stupid as the other one. "Oi, Greg, what's all the noise about?" He asked the man who had done nothing yet to help, and Pansy was slowly becoming more and more desperate.

"The poofs are fighting again, Vince," He replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

Pansy cringed at the disgusting term he used, but chose to ignore it for the moment in favour of using the two idiotic creature's brawn, "Please, can you just get the door open for me, please!" She begged, closing her hand around the man named Greg's bicep. It was large.

He seemed flattered that she had chosen to appeal to him rather than the equally brawny Vince who had come to stand beside her, and instantly turned to the door – just as it opened up to reveal the smiling face of Theo.

"What have you done, you psycho?" She screamed into his face, throwing her shoes in his direction. He neatly dodged them, glancing at her two sidekicks with amusement.

"Careful, sweetheart, you'll break a nail!" He murmured, stepping right up close to Pansy, his putrid breath washing over her face, "Oh, you've got make-up issues," He laughed, pointing at her face, before brushing past her and jogging down the stairs.

Pansy didn't even attempt to think of a comeback, she stumbled into the flat – dumb and dumber following close behind – and screamed when she found Draco slumped inside the lounge door, his face completely battered, dried blood encrusted in his hair and an empty syringe sticking out of his arm.

"Oh, God! Oh, God, please no!" She begged, yanking the needle out and throwing it on the ground beside them. "Call an ambulance!" She yelled at the two men who seemed dumbstruck by the state Draco was in.

No, no, no. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening! Frantically she tried to wake the unconscious man in front of her, shaking him and calling his name desperately, but to no avail – Draco simply slumped further down the door frame.

"The ambulance is on its way, babe – is he alright?" Greg asked, pointing his mobile phone towards the obviously far from alright Draco.

"Are stupid questions your speciality? Of course he's not alright, you moron!" Pansy snapped, leaning over Draco's body to try and listen to his breathing. She tried for a total of 5 seconds, "Oh, my God – he's not breathing!" She screeched, cold dread slamming into her, "No, Draco, don't you dare do this to me! I don't know what to do!" She cried helplessly, turning to look at the two men behind her.

They looked at each other uneasily, before the one from upstairs, Vince, stepped forward, "I know CPR, I'm a doorman – had to do first aid training-"

"I don't want your life story, just help him!" Pansy shouted, grabbing Vince's sleeve and yanking him down. He seemed squeamish about touching Draco at first, and as he bent down to check his airway he had a disgusted look on his face, "Look, you imbecile, he might be a 'poof' but he's hardly going to be turned on by you giving him mouth to mouth – just fucking get on with it!" Pansy cried with frustration.

Vince had the decency to look ashamed, before he bent over Draco's tiny frame and began delicately giving him CPR, "Love, he's got some broken ribs, I dunno if I'm doing more harm than good-" He informed with a worried expression, continuing to give gentle compressions whilst glancing at Pansy who knelt opposite him, her hand clenching Draco's so tightly her knuckles were white.

She glanced down at Draco's lifeless face, so broken, so defeated - a shadow of the man she had once known – and she wept. "Please, the ambulance is on its way – please, just keep trying," she begged, clutching Draco's pale hand to her chest, "Please..."

The minutes that followed were a blur to Pansy. The ambulance crew swept into the flat, and upon seeing Draco's broken body lying on the ground in the recovery position both paramedics did a double take – glancing at each other before glancing back at the ground, "Draco?"

"Help him!" Pansy cried for what felt like the millionth time, her hand flying up to her hair and pulling at it in frustration. Vince had managed to get Draco breathing again, but the blonde still hadn't come round, still laid limp and deathly pale – only now his laboured breaths rattled through his chest, heaving it slightly with the effort.

The ride to the hospital was painfully slow. Draco had been hooked up to so many monitors that Pansy was afraid to look at them, fearing what readings they were producing. She stared at his bruised and bloodied face, tears flowing silently over her cheeks. The paramedics had asked her what had happened, and she had given the only explanation she knew – Theo had beaten him up. The syringe was harder to explain, but a swift glance at the lounge coffee table clarified what drug they were dealing with – an empty Methadone packet was lying haphazardly across a plethora of drug paraphernalia.

The machines surrounding Draco beeped erratically before a continuous high pitched tone rent the ambulance, "He's crashing, get a move on, Nev!" the paramedic yelled to the driver, who slammed his foot down on the accelerator.

Pansy wailed as the man began thumping at Draco's chest, forcing his heart to start beating again, and she clenched her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to watch. If she didn't look then she could pretend it wasn't happening, she could pretend that she was back in her studio, designing rooms for stuck-up socialites.

When they arrived at the hospital, and the ambulance doors opened, they were greeted by a dozen different doctors, all waiting for the arrival of '23 year old male – drug overdose'. None of them knew that the man they would be treating was one of them – one of the members of their own staff, of their own family!

Each gasp was more harrowing than the last, more heartfelt, more afraid – and each one was like a blow to Pansy's already crumbling composure. The doctors and nurses had all seen this sort of scene before, had seen where it led – Draco looked as though he were dead, and chances were that he was going to end up that way.

The corridor that led to the emergency rooms was long, and Draco's heart stopped again on the way through. The mayhem that preceded the continuous alarm of the heart machines frightened Pansy more than she thought possible, and she instantly started begging them to help again.

"HELP HIM, PLEASE!" she screamed, uncaring of other patients, "PLEASE! PLEASE! HELP HIM! OH GOD, HELP HIM!" She continued as she ran down the hospital corridor after Draco's trolley. Why did his heart keep on stopping? Why was this happening? She thought desperately.

The trolley was wheeled into a bay in the A&E where doctors and nurses ascended on Draco's fragile body. Nurses openly stared when they saw who they were dealing with, some even sobbing slightly, and Pansy continued to panic – so much so a nurse had to restrain her, hold her back as Draco was once again resuscitated.

She watched her friend have his heart shocked back to life another two times, watched him rattle about on the metal framed bed, watched his back arch and slam back down again when the electric current disappeared. Watched as the little boy she'd grown up with, had played House with, had hugged when he'd come out to her, had been betrothed to – had been in her life for as long as she could remember – died in front of her eyes only to be wrenched back again at the last moment. And she was sure the horror she witnessed would never leave her, would be etched upon her face for as long as she lived.

"Please…" She sobbed, giving up her struggle against the nurse's restraint and going limp in her arms. The woman maintained a constant stream of reassurance, telling Pansy that Draco was going to be OK, that the machinery may look scary but it was all helping him… Pansy had stopped listening, her eyes focused on Draco's face as a breathing tube was inserted down his throat and another nurse began pumping oxygen into his lungs. Pansy felt as though she were going to fall apart, like her body would crumble to pieces to the ground, and she wrapped her arms around herself to hold it together.

"OK honey, they've managed to make him stable enough to move him up to Intensive Care, so if you follow me we'll get him comfortable," The nurse informed her gently, rubbing a hand against her back in soothing circles.

Pansy gasped slightly, turning her head to look at the nurse with an expression of sheer hope etched upon her face, "He's going to be OK? Can I touch him?" she asked desperately, more tears spilling over her cheeks.

The nurse smiled gently, her hand still resting lightly on Pansy's back, "Of course you can, just be careful of the equipment," she advised with a grim expression.

The trolley began moving, jolting Draco's body as it went, and Pansy rushed forward to claim one of his hands – clutching it as tightly as she could, vowing to never let go of it again. The trolley and the assortment of nurses and doctors sprinted toward the lifts, heading for the Intensive Care Unit on one of the upper floors. Pansy didn't pay attention to any of the words spoken by the medical staff, afraid that if she listened too closely she'd hear something she didn't want to hear.

Instead she thought about the last time she'd spoken to Draco, at that stupid party their parents had thrown to celebrate the last of their exams. How she wished she could turn back time, turn it back and drag Draco out of the room when Theo turned up, take him as far away as possible and keep him hidden forever. She hated herself for every second she had spent pretending she didn't care about him, every second she kept up the silent treatment – every second that she had given Theo the opportunity to wheedle his way in, to hurt and destroy the boy she loved like a brother.

Intensive Care was a terrifying sight, with monitors and tubes and bleeping and the smell of sterilized…everything! It was bright white - blindingly white- with nurses walking around wearing masks and stressed expressions. It was a grim place to be, made grimmer by the fact that Draco was here.

He looked weak, fragile, and entirely breakable beneath the cascades of IV tubes and wires. The breathing tube had been attached to a machine that was now helping him to breathe, the steady pump of it almost soothing in the otherwise eerily quiet ward. Draco had been stripped of his shirt, and his bare, pale white chest was littered with sticky pads attached to wires, and black bruises. His ribs were discoloured, with several having been tapped up, and the bruises around his neck were gut-wrenching to look at.

"Where the hell is my son?" A voice echoed from beyond the ward, and the nurse attending to Draco's bed looked up sharply as though outraged that someone was causing such a commotion around such sick patients. Moments later, the older, more severe version of Draco sprinted into the room, white lab coat splaying out behind him, a look of utmost terror plastered across his face.

"Draco?" Lucius breathed in a pained voice, skidding to a halt at the bottom of Draco's bed.

Pansy had always been afraid of Mr. Malfoy, had always shrunk away when he approached, stayed quiet when he was nearby…until that very moment when she watched his world fall apart right before her eyes. In that very second, when his eyes met the broken body of his only son, every scary, intimidating aspect of him melted away – leaving a terrified father in its wake.

He took slow, measured steps towards his son, his eyes tight at the edges. His face was blank, expressionless as he gazed down at the sight before him. His hands trembled, though he placed them inside his pockets to hide the fact, but Pansy noticed. "What happened?" He asked, his voice portraying none of the stress he was obviously feeling.

Pansy swallowed, her hands still clutching one of Draco's in a death drip, and explained the phone call and subsequent events that followed in a small voice. Lucius stared at his son throughout the explanation, not once interrupting or commenting on any details. When she finished, he continued to gaze at his son, the only movement being the heaving of his chest as he breathed.

"He's going to be OK, isn't he, Mr. Malfoy?" Pansy asked, hesitantly. Lucius' gaze flickered to her for a second, taking in her mascara stained face and scruffy hair, and he took a few steps closer, stopping beside her. Very lightly he placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping it ever so gently, and he smiled an unhappy smile.

"You are an amazing friend, Pansy. He is very lucky to have someone like you in his life," He murmured, the smallest amount of emotion breaking in his voice, "Thank you; he would've died if you hadn't gone to his aide," He added softly, and in a surprising as well as shocking move, he leant forward and kissed her forehead – much the same as Draco always had – before pulling away and turning his back on her to read Draco's notes.

*********************

Beep. Beep. Beep.

For hours – though it could have been minutes, days, weeks – Draco concentrated on the steady bleep of a hospital monitor. He couldn't move, didn't even want to try, didn't want to announce his consciousness like he had done back in the flat with Theo. He just wanted to lie still, protected for now from the avalanche of despair that was sure to fall once he was awake – he wanted time to sort through things in his mind before he was faced with real life again.

It was difficult to remain still whilst Pansy sobbed beside him, whilst his mother held his hand and his father demanded the best care for him, a small amount of fear in his voice as he spoke. Difficult to manage the breathing tube that had been fished through his throat without coughing and spluttering. It was difficult - but not impossible.

He heard snippets of information from Pansy and his father – and lots of hissing. Theo's name had become the ultimate source of hissing, with his father going so far as to spit it on a few occasions. From what he could hear, Pansy was a wreck, her hand constantly quivering as she clutched hold of his. He wondered what she had seen back at the flat when she had found him unconscious, and what Theo had done to her out in the hall.

He hoped she would forgive him, and then prayed that she wouldn't in the same instant. If anything had been learnt from his experience with Theo, it was that Draco was poison - causing destruction to the lives of the people around him. He needed to be as far removed from society as possible, to be prohibited from coming into contact with good, pure people so he could not ruin any other lives.

He had also learned that his judgement was completely awry, that his ability to trust people was forever gone - and that he would never allow himself to love again. Would not allow himself the possibility to love again. Ever. Because love, like him, was toxic. Was the ultimate weapon of mass destruction. Was death.

"Draco?" A small voice whispered in his ear, a voice that was difficult not to answer.

Against his will, his eyes fluttered open, stinging when the bright strip lighting abused his tender retinas. His throat constricted around the breathing tube and his gag reflex kicked in.

His father urged him to stay calm, to hold still as he disconnected the tube and gently pulled it out of his mouth. Draco coughed roughly, his chest screaming in protest as he shuddered away from his father's touch.

A nurse came over and helped Lucius with the equipment and began checking Draco's obs, only for the young blonde to flinch away from her as she tried to check his heart rate.

"Don't touch me!" He hissed, his voice hoarse and rasping from lack of use. He tried to shift away from her, but found that he could barely move. He managed to wrench himself into a semi-sitting position before he depleted his energy reserve and all but slumped back against the pillows. Frustrated tears sprang to his eyes, "Stay away from me!" he ordered as the nurse once again made to touch him.

"Don't touch him." Lucius murmured in a hard voice, "I can manage, thank you." he added, dismissing the nurse. He sat gently in the side of the bed and slowly but pointedly placed his hands on the tops of Draco's arms, holding him still. "Calm yourself, Draco. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Draco froze, his breathing laboured as he gazed into his father's eyes, the man who was his idol in every sense of the word. The unadulterated love shining back was like a white hot knife being shoved into his heart.

He allowed his father to check him over, to make his observations - if only to delay the inevitable. He could see the questions forming inside his father's mind, could see the hurt and betrayal painted across his face. Could practically hear the disappointment in every single word he uttered – and the pieces of his heart that hadn't yet been destroyed by Theo turned into dust. How was he going to get through this? How was he going to tell his father that he had let him down, that he had been lying to him for so long?

"Draco, would you like to explain to me what happened?" Lucius asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft, in an attempt to be unthreatening. Though, Draco knew his question wasn't a plea for knowledge - it was a plea to have knowledge confirmed. He flinched again as Lucius softly squeezed his arms, apparently in a comforting gesture.

"I was trying to help," he whispered, his voice breaking as a sob travelled up his chest, stealing his breath - preventing him from continuing. He felt his eyes begin to fill with tears as he gazed at his father blank expression.

"He was hurting you, and you said nothing," Lucius said, his eyes pained as he gazed at Draco's broken face, "You know you can come to me about anything, Draco – I'm your father,"

Draco squeezed his eyes closed to stop the shamed tears from falling. Oh, it hurt – his father's love and support hurt more than any injury Theo had ever inflicted. It was destroying him, ripping him apart from the inside, creating a huge festering wound that would surely never heal, "Dad, please don't," he whispered pitifully, pulling his hands through his hair, wincing when his clawed fingers pressed against the cut caused by the bathroom sink when he'd fallen.

Lucius sucked in a steadying breath as he watched his son crumble before his eyes and he swore to himself that Nott would pay - oh, he would rue the day he ever hurt a Malfoy! "Draco, none of this is your fault, do you understand me? Just because you are a...man, it doesn't mean that you can't be a victim of domestic violence-" Lucius pressed incredulously, earnest frustration in his tone.

"Dad, you don't know what you're talking about-" Draco murmured, forcing the tears in his eyes back down, desperate not to cry in front of his father. He didn't want to do this, he couldn't do this – it was hurting too much!

"Yes, I do...-" Lucius said, his tone warming slightly. "Draco, domestic violence isn't just something that just happens between-"

"Father, this isn't about domestic violence-" Draco tried to explain, only to be cut off again.

"Please, son - I beg you not to insult my intelligence," He asked, his silver eyes that were so like Draco's own swirling with sincerity, "It's nothing to be ashamed of...to be embarrassed about! You did what you needed to do in order to survive. Yes, stealing Methadone from the hospital was inexcusable, and there isn't a lot I can do to save your licence, but I could have done if you had come to me from the beginning!"

Draco cringed, his insides squirming. Shame and disgust infected him, swam through his veins like congealed poison, leaving nothing but pain and destruction in its wake. This wasn't right. His father wasn't supposed to comforting him! He was supposed to be disappointed, disgusted!

"Stop, please, I can bear this-" Draco begged, shaking his father's grip off and wrapping his arm around his stomach as he shifted in his bed. His ribs screamed in protest again, and he winced as he pulled on the I.V taped to the back of his hand that he had, until that point, been unaware of.

In that moment, his father, Theo -every single thing that had happened to him in the last 24 hours- melted away as unadulterated fear smashed into him like a steam train. In the space of a single blink, Draco began hyperventilating as he began clawing at the I.V in an attempt to wrench it from his skin.

Lucius grabbed at Draco's wrists in an attempt to stop him, instantly falling into Doctor mode as he yelled for assistance towards the nurses station, "Draco, no, stop it -" He ordered sharply, pinning Draco arms to the bed in order to stop the distressed man from hurting himself.

The I.V had been ripped out from the back of his hand, a trickle of blood seeping from the hole left behind, and Lucius cursed under his breath knowing that the line would need to be re-inserted in order for Draco to receive vital medication. However, Draco only began to panic even more as his father tried to restrain him, and his frail bruised body thrashed desperately as he tried to evade his father's grip.

A gut wrenching scream rose through Draco's body the longer he was held against the bed, pain exploding in every point that Theo had attacked earlier that day. He cried, screamed, begged - desperation evident in his every word, every movement, and it only increased as his father ordered a sedative to be administered.

The nurse approached, flicking at a syringe - preparing it to be plunged into Draco's veins as she went- and the panic hit a fever pitch. Images of Theo and the Methadone-filled-needle flashed in front of his eyes, and he began fighting in earnest against the hands holding him down,

"No! No, please, no! Get away from me!" He screamed desperately, tears tumbling over his battered cheeks. He looked at his father, pleading with his eyes, "Please, dad, no!" He begged.

Lucius briefly closed his eyes, fighting the urge to push the nurse away from his distressed boy. He nodded though, indicating his permission for her to administer the calming sedative, and his blood ran cold as Draco pleaded for them to stop.

"No! Dad, please...father..." Draco gasped for breath, watching the nurse close in as he remained unable to defend himself. He kicked and slammed his already tender head against the bed, arching his back in a feeble attempt to escape as he fixed his eyes on the needle in the nurses hand. She hesitated, and he heard his father's thorny voice lash out at her in a command to hurry up.

He couldn't understand why they were doing this to him - why they were attacking him. Why his father was allowing this to happen - no, not allowing it-...causing it!

The desperate need to hurt his father in return exploded inside him, and he used the only method available to him - words. "You're just like Theo - no, you're worse, I hate you - I fucking hate you! I HATE YOU!" He cried, switching his gaze to Lucius' stormy grey eyes. He didn't miss the flicker of hurt that flashed across his expression, and as he felt - for the second time that day - the needle being inserted into his arm, he relished in his father's pain.

His body began to relax against his will, became heavy, his mind so cloudy it was like he'd stepped out into a patch of fog. The sedative worked instantly, but his father didn't release his hold - he kept his hands planted on his biceps, his face hovering in front Draco's, watching his expression as the drug took affect with apologetic eyes.

"I'm sorry, son - it's for your own good," He tried to explain, hoping Draco would understand,

Draco's eyelids drooped against his will, false, manufactured sleep coming forth to claim him. For his own good. Just like Theo had tried to kill him - for his own good.

"I'm not your son!" Draco whispered, and his eyes fell closed.

*****************

"Right, straight to the couch, and I'll make you a cup of tea," Pansy insisted, trying to support Draco's weight even though it was completely unnecessary. He'd been discharged from the hospital an hour previous, a welcome relief after the 3 week stay in which he had been recovering. He was, physically, perfectly fine - bar a few sore spots, but nothing that would prevent him from walking unaided...it was his mental state that was the problem.

He was grateful to be away from the hospital though, relieved to be away from the gossiping nurses and judgemental doctors, but most of all he was relieved to be away from his father.

He shook his head slightly to try and dislodge the thought, to rid himself of the image of Lucius - the sound of his voice echoing in his ears - and concentrated on Pansy.

Her lounge, though quite small, was tastefully decorated in forest greens and stainless steel. Her huge cushioned sofa, however, had been equipped with a king-sized duvet in shocking pink that Draco assumed had come from her bed, and a ton of squashy looking pillows. She caught his raised eyebrow and smirked, holding her hand out towards the improvised bed, "Voila!"

"Pan's, you really didn't have to go to all this trouble - I could've gone to a hotel...-" Draco murmured, feeling oddly emotional. His comment was completely untrue, of course - he had yet to be left alone due to the admission he had made to Pansy that he had wanted to die when he was with Theo. She had since decided that he was suicidal and was deemed unfit to be left alone. "I don't deserve any of this," he added, feeling ashamed for how appallingly he had treated the woman before him.

Pansy, however, held up her finger in warning, her expression stern, "Firstly, hush! You and I both know that no matter what your...mental state, I would never have you stay at a hotel alone when I have a perfectly decent place for you to stay. And secondly, I don't want to hear any of that...-" she added softly, stepping in front of him and lightly placing her hands on his shoulders. She didn't miss how he flinched when she did so. "I don't care what he said to you, what anyone has said to you - you deserve nothing but the best, do you hear me?"

Draco shrugged, squirming beneath Pansy's touch. He didn't believe what she was saying, but he knew better then to answer back - one of the lessons he had learned out of all of this was to just keep his mouth shut and do as he was told.

He allowed himself to be steered towards the couch, and spent a majority of the day watching mindless, feel-good chick flicks with Pansy whilst eating junk food. He'd almost allowed himself to forget, even for a short while, everything that he'd gone through - could imagine that the last 2 years hadn't happened and that he'd never left the comfort of Pansy's side - but he couldn't let himself have that small reprieve, couldn't let himself forget.

Pansy sensed Draco's mood declining further and further, and flicked the T.V off. Draco glanced at her warily, confusion clouding his eyes as the film cut off midway through, "This film is appalling, why the fuck are we watching it?" She laughed, dumping the remote control on the coffee table. "I've got a bottle of Vodka in the fridge - been in there an absolute age - what do you say to a little housewarming party?"

Draco frowned, his hand sliding through his hair and scratching at the back of his neck, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I figured you could stay with me...permanently. I know it's a tad small, and we'll need to find somewhere bigger, but I think it'll be perfect! I really think we'll have a lot of fun...and we can take care of each other..." She explained, her eyes pleading for him to accept.

Draco stared at her in wonder, sure that he had heard her incorrectly, "Pans', I don't think that's such a good idea...I mean, what about Blaise?" he asked, shifting around on the couch to get a better look at her.

She gazed back earnestly, her hair falling into her eyes from the messy knot she had made at the top of her head. She hadn't changed at all during his absence, even down to her slouchy pyjamas - a pair that Draco realised with a jolt that he had given her the Christmas before they had stopped speaking. It suddenly hit Draco how very much Pansy must have missed him.

"What about him?" she asked with a shrug, "It's not like he doesn't know you, or that anything would happen. Besides, I don't care what he thinks - you're like my brother, you come first!"

Draco's eyes slid closed as shame and guilt settled over his head, "I'm a terrible person-" He began to say, wishing, not for the first time, that he had made different, better choices, "You shouldn't be doing this Pans', you shouldn't be giving me the time of day, let alone asking me to move in!" he moaned, sliding his hands into his hair and clutching desperately at the roots.

He didn't understand why she was being like this, why she had come running when he had asked for help - why she bothered with him at all!

Pansy tried her best to keep her voice light, to restrain the frustration and conviction that was desperate to break through, because she knew the last thing Draco needed to hear was another angry voice, "Well, I am, so it doesn't really matter, does it?" she countered in a soft but lofty tone.

Draco released his hair and gazed at Pansy's face, scrutinizing her earnest expression -looking for any sign that would contradict her words. She gazed back, seemingly allowing him the time to find whatever it was that he was looking for, and when he heaved a small frustrated sigh she gathered he believed her, though, apparently, he took no pleasure in her swift forgiveness.

"Draco, look, you can't change what happened, and beating yourself up about it is only going to make things worse. All you can do now is make sure that you never put yourself through anything like this again." Pansy advised, shifting closer to him, reaching out to innocently brush a few strands of hair from his dull grey eyes. She physically gasped when Draco flinched so violently he almost fell off the couch.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to frighten you." she explained, shifting back to allow the blonde some space. She berated herself for the idiotic move, remembering what Lucius had told her before Draco had been released from the hospital.

Lucius had sat behind his desk in his clean-cut office, his expression heavy with regret as he had gazed at her. It had been three weeks since he had sedated Draco, three weeks since Draco had declared that he was no longer his son.

Apparently, her best friend was blaming his father for inflicting yet more pain on him, and during an explosive argument that had taken place afterward - an argument that Lucius had regrettably lost his temper and declared that Draco was idiotic for ever falling for a parasite like Theo in the first place - the two men had been unable to speak amicably. Though, Pansy had to give him credit - it wasn't due to lack of trying on Lucius' part.

No, Draco believed that Lucius was against him, and there was simply nothing that anyone could say that could change that thought process.

Lucius had shuffled a bunch of papers on his desk, trying his best to hide the displeasure in his expression as he handed over the care of his son to Pansy.

"You must be especially careful not to startle him, Pansy, he is in a very delicate state of mind." He had informed, "Unfortunately paranoia is something that is unavoidable for someone who has been in his situation - he is going to believe that anyone he comes into contact with is going to harm him, which is completely understandable. You have witnessed for yourself the hostility he has developed towards me since the sedation incident, and we don't want him alienating anyone else - he needs his loved ones around him at the moment - he is going to need all the support he can get now that he has had his training license revoked…"

She needed to tread carefully around Draco, give him time and space to work through what he was feeling. Lucius had already been disowned by Draco, and had allowed himself to be the scapegoat purely because it appeared to help Draco to deal with his issues. Issues that didn't seem to want to go away.

Pansy had helped Draco the best she could when it came to the police enquiry and sub-sequent court hearing. Theo had been arrested and charged with assault and battery, and administering a drug without permission, but his solicitor - the vile Weasel Woman - had been good - good enough to get him a minimal prison sentence for what he had done.

Draco had suffered a more severe fate. He had been given a 3 year suspended sentence, ordered to pay £5,000 in fines, and had been banned from ever practicing medicine again - something that had destroyed Draco and Lucius in equal measures.

It had been a hard few weeks, but Pansy was determined to get her friend back on his feet and acting like the boy she had grown up with.

Shaking her head, expelling the train of thought that had carried her away, Pansy refocused on the man before her. Draco looked embarrassed by his reaction to her touch, his hand dragging through his limp hair in a habit he seemed to have acquired during their separation.

"So, vodka?" She asked, a small smile on her face, "and then maybe we can go about fixing the mess your hair is in!"

Draco's face broke into a watery smile, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges…and 2 years later, his hair and his life had been repaired beyond recognition. Until the fateful day when he walked into a building emblazoned with the logo 'Aurors LLP'.

To Be Continued…


	16. Letting go

Chapter 16 - letting go.

And so it all finally made sense. Draco finally made sense. Every tiny detail, every mystery surrounding the blonde that Harry had noticed and stored away in his mind, finally added up.

He had always hoped that Draco would open up to him, would uncover all the little mysterious details that had kept him awake on countless nights. He had hoped and wished and, though he wasn't a religious man, had prayed that Draco would find something within him that would be worthy enough to share his life's secrets with him. Now that his hopes and wishes and prayers had been answered…he felt as though he'd been slapped for his greed.

His stomach rolled uncomfortably, stabbing at him from the inside. The knowledge he now held about the man before him made him feel physically sick. It made him want to wash his brain with bleach, rid himself of the disturbing, agonising images his mind kept presenting him with. He wanted to forget but knew that he never would. Not ever.

He stared at Draco's pallid face as the blonde stared off into space. His expression was strained, his eyes and mouth so tight at the edges it looked as though he might break. As Harry attempted to digest the information he had just received, he wondered if maybe Draco had already been broken beyond repair.

"Surely you can see now why I had to leave, Harry - why I needed to be away from you." Draco murmured, his head turned away from Harry's, his eyes still focused on the white lab coat that'd had his undivided attention for the entirety of his speech. He couldn't bring himself to look at Harry, to make eye contact with him. He was sure he would never recover from the torment it would cause to see such disgust in those beautiful emerald eyes.

Harry, however, couldn't tear his gaze away from Draco's face - he catalogued every tear that fell from his eyes with heartbreaking precision, every sob he had tried to unsuccessfully swallow…every ounce of blame he had heaped on top of himself, burying himself further and further in hopeless despair, "No." he whispered softly.

"We are opposite ends of the spectrum!" Draco choked, his eyes sliding closed as yet more tears cascaded over his lashes, "You are honest and good and pure, and you don't deserve to have your life tainted by me, Harry. You are perfect, in every single way, and it kills me…that I will never, ever,’ be good enough for you."

Harry's eyes blurred as they filled with agonised tears, and for the first time since he had entered Draco's closet, he had to look away from the blonde man. Had to look away because, if he didn't, his heart would break.

How very much he wanted to envelope Draco in his arms, but he knew that the other man would never allow it. If one thing was absolutely clear and completely evident from the things Draco had told him, it was that the blonde man held very little faith in his ability to trust, not only other peoples’ intentions, but in his own judgement.

"I'm sorry I kissed you, Harry. I'm sorry that I have disrupted your life and if I have caused you a moments pain. And I am sorry, because if I had a chance to change one second of time since the moment I met you...I wouldn't change a thing."

"Please don't do this, Draco - please don't say this is over." Harry begged, his heart thumping so violently in his chest that he feared it might explode. "I wouldn't change anything, either - and you _are_ good enough for me - you're far _too_ good for me!" he added, raising his hand to wipe away Draco's tears.

Draco flinched, his hands slamming into Harry's chest and pushing him back before he could even think about what he was doing. Harry yelped with surprise as he stumbled over the pile of clothes and shoes in the middle of the closet. He managed to find his footing just before he fell, and straightened up, an alarmed expression crossing his face.

Draco stared at him with wide eyes, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, "I'm sorry," he gasped, fear saturating his tone. He looked at his shaking hands as more salty tears streamed over his cheeks, and he crumpled to the ground, his back thumping against the shelving system behind him, "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, _I'm_ sorry." Harry gasped, feeling entirely stupid for his move. Draco had just explained how he had been the subject of domestic violence and Harry idiotically raised his hand to his face! He picked his way back across the room and sank down in front of the blonde, careful to keep his hands to himself, "That was _my_ fault, I'm sorry."

"Harry, stop! Stop being nice to me, please - I don't deserve it!" Draco begged, his face falling into his hands.

Frustration and sadness washed over Harry like a tidal wave, "Draco, you know that's not true!" he argued, being careful to keep his tone soft, and wanting with every fibre of his being to reach out and touch the other man. He settled with placing his hands on his own knees and in view of the blonde.

"It is true - I don't deserve to breathe the same air as you!" Draco snarled, his hands wrenching at the roots of his hair. He felt more hot, salty tears uncontrollably spill over his eyes, cascading down his cheeks - burning his skin like acid. What was the point? What was the point in hiding it any longer - his agony, his heartbreak?

Annoyance surged through Harry as he watched the blonde sink further into despair and he couldn't help the admission that burst out of him, "Your perception of me is bloody ridiculous!"

He stood, backing away, and began to pace the small room to prevent him from touching Draco in any way. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the other man.

Draco merely shook his head in response, disbelief evident in the action.

Harry decided it was about time Draco heard a few truths, himself. He needed to realise that Harry was far from the God he seemed to think he was, "I hired you because I thought you were attractive." He blurted, shame riddling his tone. He watched as Draco's head snapped up, his eyes red and his hair sticking up in different directions, and the shame morphed into downright disgust. "I didn't care that you had no experience. I didn't care that you kept crashing your computer or sugaring my tea, I just wanted to hire you because I liked how you looked. I was unprofessional and dishonest." he explained, his tone begging Draco to listen.

"Harry…" Draco whispered, disbelieving what he was hearing - did Harry really think that this was what he wanted to hear?

However, Harry continued as though he hadn't heard, "I paid someone to steal Tom Riddle's file. I fraudulently entered a criminal facility…if that were to come out, I'd be disbarred." He added, his face totally serious as he tried to drill the point home to Draco. "I spend my life defending scum who commit wretched crimes against innocent people - I become more tarnished every day, tainted by the knowledge that I am allowing criminals to walk free because of me…for money. I am _not_ honest, I'm _not_ good, and I am _certainly_ not pure, Draco." he concluded. "I'm far from _perfect_."

Draco gazed at him, his expression blank, "Harry, that is such bollocks - and you know it! You had every right to confront Riddle, no one would blame you for that! And you practice _family law_ \- the only time you have to deal with criminals is when you're glancing at one of Hermione's cases…or when you're with _me_." he argued, shaking his head at Harry's attempt to level the playing field.

"You are not a criminal - you were desperate, you were trying to help!" Harry countered, halting his pacing and facing the blonde, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it hurt. He held his breath as Draco slowly pulled himself to his feet, gripping onto shelves behind him for support.

The blonde turned his back on him, and he watched as Draco reached across and fingered the only garment still hanging from the rails - a crisp white lab coat. His steel grey eyes had closed as a wave of pain evidently washed over him, and it was hard for Harry to witness, though, the blonde had done it on numerous occasions since Harry had arrived. This time was different, this time Draco looked as though he was physically dying on the inside.

"I never thought I'd say this…" Draco whispered, agony saturating his tone, "because losing my licence was the worst thing that has ever happened to me - even with the overdose and the beatings and…! Losing my licence, seeing the disappointment on my father's face…it was the worst pain I have ever experienced!"

He took the coat from the hanger, a sob travelling up his throat as he dropped it to the floor where it laid on top of the rest of the closet's discarded apparel, "Until now." he added, his gaze finally sweeping over Harry's face.

His eyes were startling in their grief, their complete and utter bleakness, and it stunned Harry to see them. Stunned him to believe that a person could hold that much despair inside without withering away to nothing.

"Goodbye, Harry." Draco choked, cringing at the sight of the tears falling from behind Harry's skewed glasses. He abruptly looked away and walked towards the door, eager to get as far from Harry as possible. He didn't want to continue this, didn't want to have to suffer any more of this…this torment, this knowledge that he could not have the things he wanted most in the world.

"I love you." Harry pleaded to Draco’s retreating back, his voice breaking as he watched the man he loved walk away, "I've loved you since the moment you came into my life - and I can't lose you now, not because of this - not because of him!"

Draco stopped, his eyes clamping shut as Harry's words sank in. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair. "Harry, if that's true - if you really mean that…then, please, let me go." He murmured, before he left the closet and walked away from Harry for good.

* * *

3 years later.

Harry stared at the headrest in front of him, the film playing on the small screen appearing nothing more than a visual disturbance. If asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell if it was a cartoon or a horror film - it was merely a blur of colour.

He hadn't removed his seat belt, even when the light indicating it safe to do so had blinked to life. He didn't want to move, had no reason to, so he kept it fastened. Extra tight.

The steward hovering along the aisle had asked on more than one occasion if he was feeling ok, and he took this to mean his face was probably green. He nodded in answer, afraid that if he opened his mouth he might vomit, and the steward wandered off - after discreetly leaving several sick bags on the fold out table with a knowing smile.

He breathed a small chuckle at her kindness and how thoroughly misplaced it was. True, Harry had never been on a plane before and was slightly terrified - especially as he had chosen to take such a long journey…alone - but that wasn't the reason for his discord. It was _one_ of them, but not the most prominent.

He glanced at the letter in his hand again. The italic cursive was familiar and comforting, and he smiled sadly as he took it in, wishing that the words were intended for him. However, much to his disappointment, they weren't. Each detail, each snarky comment or declaration of love was written, not with Harry in mind, but Pansy.

He had read the letter so often that he now knew it by heart. He knew the parts that made him smile fondly "… _Don't forget that I would like to see my goddaughter sometime before she turns 18! I mean, come on, Pans', how hard is it to drag that no good husband of yours and a one year old on to a plane?…"_ the author had written. He imagined the small smirk that would have pulled at his lips as his pen danced across the paper.

"… _the weather is as glorious as ever - I don't know why you always ask, I'm in Australia, not Alaska! You'd love Victoria though, I don't know why you don't just up sticks and come here too- Pandora could use a bit of sunshine in her life. You can all come and live with me…I miss you…"_ , _"…Well, I finally did it - I am now a fully fledged Cardiologist. I know - I can hardly believe it myself! Peninsula Private Hospital is beautiful - a far cry from St Mungos. It's nice being able to be Draco, rather then that guy who royally fucked up. I guess I'm finally rebuilding my life…"._

The captain announced their impending arrival at Melbourne Airport and Harry was struck by nausea again. He'd waited 3 long years for information on Draco, anything to tell him where he might be or how he was doing. He'd known from Pansy that the blonde was well and had left Britain, but that was all she'd ever been inclined to disclose. For 3 long years he had enquired about Draco, and for 3 long years Pansy had held her tongue.

She had said that she knew how it felt to be cut off by the blonde man, and the only way Harry made it through each day was the knowledge that she and Draco had made amends in the end. It was the only reprieve from his monotonous, empty life without the blonde.

The plane touched down with a jerk onto the asphalt, and Harry clutched at the armrest so tightly his knuckles turned white. The heat penetrating the cabin was stifling and beads of perspiration caused his shirt to stick to his body and his hair felt plastered to his forehead, and he thanked anyone listening that he'd soon have a chance to shower, though he reasoned that he'd most likely end up just as sweaty soon after anyway.

The journey from plane to taxi, and taxi to hotel, passed in blur of sunshine and Australian accent. He handed the fare to the taxi driver with the knowledge that he had probably tipped far too much, but he couldn't have cared any less - he was here, as close to Draco as he had been in 3 years.

As he found his room and, more importantly, the shower, he allowed himself a chance to speculate on what he might find when he eventually came face to face with Draco. He wondered if the blonde would be tanned, whether he might have a slight Australian lilt to his voice, whether he drove a sexy sports car with the top down, enjoying the beautiful weather. He wondered if he'd met someone and felt a small stab of pain in his stomach at the likely possibility.

A smile spread across Harry's face as he thought of the location of where Draco would be - a hospital. It was always the most favourite part of the letter - that Draco had finally acquired his dream, he was finally a doctor. Harry wondered what his motivation had been, to have the ruling of his revoked medical licence overturned, but he was thrilled that the blonde had finally realised he wasn't the monster he believed he was.

He climbed out of the shower, taking a minute to calm his breathing before reattaching his insulin pump, and began to pull on some more weather appropriate clothing when his mobile phone burst to life.

_I've been roaming around always looking down at all I see…_

He raced into the bedroom area, searching out his carry-on bag from the plane to locate his phone, grumbling a stream of profanities as it stopped ringing only to start again straight away. He finally found it hiding in a shoe and hit the send button, frowning when he read Pansy's name on the ID.

"Hi, Pansy?" he answered, evident confusion in his tone. "What's up?" he asked as he fell onto the bed.

"Harry, I just spoke to Draco-" she replied sounding harassed. A high pitched wailing could be heard in the background which Harry took to be Pandora - the girl certainly had a set of lungs on her.

Pansy's comment caused a red flag to pop up in his mind, "Wait, you didn't tell him I was here, did you?" he asked, dread washing through him. The last thing he needed right now was for Draco to be in the loop - the element of surprise was something Harry was counting on.

"Of course I didn't, sweetie," she replied, and Harry heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for that, he hadn't come all this way to be pipped at the final post. He wasn't sure if he could endure another 3 years of misery. "I was just calling to let you know that he's at the hospital all day today, he'll be in surgery from 3pm though." Pansy informed, practically yelling over her daughter's cries. Harry winced knowing how late it was in Britain and that Blaise, who would have to leave pretty early in the morning for work, was going to be wide awake with little chance of getting any sleep.

"That's great, thank you for the heads up," Harry smiled, glancing at the clock beside the bed and blanching slightly as he took in the time, "Speaking of which, it’s almost 2pm here, so I should probably get a move on." he said, excitement and fear smashing into him, he was sure Pansy heard it in his voice.

"Ok, sweetie - send him all of our love…try and get him to come home." She asked softly, tenderness saturating her tone. The absolute warmth and longing in her voice caused Harry to pause - it was sometimes easy to forget that he wasn't the only person who was suffering from Draco's absence.

"I'll do my best." He promised, "And, Pansy…thank you, for everything. Thank you for letting me find him." he added, sincerely.

"Good luck sweetie."

The hospital was located nearby, something Harry had made sure of when he had booked the hotel room. He wanted to be as close as possible to the blonde, a demand he was now regretting as he made his way towards it. His heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest, smashing against his ribs and stealing his breath. He couldn't help wondering if he were doing the right thing - after all, Draco had moved thousands of miles across the globe to avoid him. He had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with him. Perhaps he should've left things how they were. But he couldn't do that, he couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering what if.

The hospital wasn't large, but Draco certainly had been right about its beauty - it appeared more like a leisure centre rather than a medical facility - and Harry was momentarily stunned as he gazed at it. It was fitting that Draco, who Harry knew was the epitome of beauty, should belong in a place like this, and he couldn't help but smile as he pictured the blonde wandering the halls.

He made his way through the entrance and miraculously, especially due to his poor sense of direction, he managed to find the Cardio suite. He knew from Pansy that Draco hung around a nurses station just inside the suite because he had been adopted by a group of older female nurses who adored his British accent and found him adorably cheeky.

Feeling utterly ridiculous, Harry peered around the double doors leading into Cardiology and quickly whipped back again, flattening against the wall in the outer corridor. A passing nurse looked at him as though he had just escaped from the nearest mental facility, and he tried to smile and look sane at the same time.

He peered around the corner once again, making sure he looked a little more normal this time, and caught sight of the same figure he had spotted beforehand, the only person in the world who could make Harry feel so foolish and happy and terrified simultaneously.

Draco stood hunched over a computer half way down the hall, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he gazed at the screen in front of him, pointing at unseen details with the tip of a pen to a colleague stood beside him.

It was amazing to Harry that Draco looked identical and completely different all at the same time. Yes, he was still svelte, tall, and, amusingly, pale, but he was smiling, not just with his mouth but his eyes - smiling in a way that depicted true happiness. Draco was happy.

Harry stood there, on the thresh hold of the Cardiology unit - on the thresh hold of the turning of his life - and he couldn't move. Could he really barge his way back into Draco's life? Could he really be the one that made that smile disappear? He glanced down at the white jacket in his hand, the one he had stolen all those years ago from Draco's closet, and closed his eyes. He was being selfish, he could see that now.

"Enough is enough, Potter." Harry muttered to himself, "Time to let go."

The nurse who had passed him before walked past again, this time heading towards Draco. On impulse, Harry made a decision, "Excuse me, miss?" he called out. The nurse turned, her expression suspicious, which Harry reasoned was understandable - after all, he was hanging around in a hospital looking crazy!

"Can I help you, sir?" She asked, back tracking a little. Her red curly hair tumbled around her face and over her shoulders, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little. Her red hair reminded him of his mother’s auburn curls, and he knew in his heart that this woman was supposed to help him.

"Erm, yes, please - Do you know Dr Draco Malfoy?" he asked, grinning at the title. Dr Draco. He liked that a lot. The nurse nodded, a spark of recognition lighting her eyes.

"Yes, he's just through those doors - Are you a friend of his from England?" She asked, smiling now she had made a connection, "Let me guess, you're Blaine, right?" she added, her eyes un-mistakenly travelling down the length of his body and he squirmed slightly.

"No, I'm not _Blaise_ ," he smirked, "But we _were_ friends…once. I just came to return something to him, I was hoping you would be able to pass it on for me," he said softly, holding the white lab coat out in front of him. Instinctively, the nurse reached out and took it from him, a confused expression forming on her face. "I'm kind of in a hurry." he explained.

"Oh, Ok. Sure. Who shall I say delivered it?"

Harry glanced down at the coat for the last time, his last connection to the man he loved, and looked back up to the nurse, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips, "Just tell him… Aurors sends their love." he murmured, nodding once before turning and walking out. It was time to let go.

* * *

"I'm telling you, there's simply no way a by-pass is going to fix anything - he needs to lose weight and get some exercise!" Draco said, rolling his eyes at the simplistic diagnosis. He sometimes wondered if he was the only person who used common sense in the entire department.

"Oh, right, Ok - I'll let them know." His colleague dithered, glancing once more at the screen to see if Draco was right. The blonde shook his head, a small smirk pulling at his mouth as the other doctor walked away.

"Dr Malfoy, there's been a delivery for you," Draco turned and found Tonks, a cute young nurse who had made it quite clear she had a thing for him, striding towards him, a lab coat hanging over her forearms.

"I'm just heading up to theatre, Tonks - can you put whatever it is in my locker please?" he asked, walking backwards away from her, hoping that his attempt to avoid her wasn't too obvious. As sweet as she was, she could be intensely irritating at times - especially her need to know every tiny detail of his life. He didn't know how else to tell her to mind her own business without being rude. Well, ruder than normal.

"Oh, sure, no problem!" She called as he disappeared around the corner. He shook his head at her eagerness, wondering how far she'd make it to the staff quarters without tripping or breaking whatever it was that had been sent to him. His amusement was echoed as another colleague fell into step beside him.

"Oooh, Draco, can I kindly kiss your ass too?" Marcus Flint quipped, nudging Draco in the ribs as he did so. "It looks like such fun!"

"Very funny, Flint! You know how I adore being mocked." Draco replied, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his hair. He glanced over his shoulder without really knowing why, feeling as though there was something or someone around that shouldn't be. When he found nothing, he turned back to find Flint smirking again.

"Paranoid she's following you?" The rugged doctor laughed as they stood waiting for an elevator, his head turning to watch as a pretty woman crossed their path. Draco ignored him as he commented on the unsuspecting woman's vital stats, shaking his head at his friend's crude manner.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to look interested - anyone would think you were a freakin' monk!" Flint advised, boarding the elevator with a bemused expression. Draco's sex life had been a hot topic for the nymphomaniac doctor since they had met - or lack of sex life would be more apt - and was something that came up in almost every conversation they'd had. And Draco always gave the same answer.

"I'm not interested." he murmured, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. It was true after all.

"You're never interested!"

"Then why do you continue to ask?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raising in question. Unwilling to continue the conversation, Draco changed tact, "So, how was your date with Angelina?"

Flint's eyes lit up and Draco prepared himself for an entire afternoon filled with smutty, crass details about a girl he'd never met, and, for her sake more than his, hoped he never would meet.

* * *

"I'm serious, Pansy, it was for the best - you should have seen how content he looks; I don't want to be the one to wreck that. I need to let go," Harry explained as the cab took him back towards the hotel. He had no idea where he was and cared even less. Pansy, oddly enough, had been the first person he had thought to call.

"But Harry," Pansy began, only to be cut off.

"No. He asked me to let go…and I'm finally going to listen to him. I want him to be happy - if that's without me, then so be it." He whispered, his throat closing at the trueness of his statement. He had thought he couldn't feel any more pain…how wrong he had been.

"What are you going to do?" Pansy asked softly. He could hear in her tone that she strongly disapproved of what he was doing. But then she had been there in the beginning, when Harry had been crushed - she had endured the last 3 years with him, and she knew that he was close to breaking. She knew, even though she would never admit it, that he was right.

"I don't know. I don't think I'm going to hang around - I don't want to chance bumping into him…or changing my mind." he chuckled. They both knew it was forced. "I'll probably sort out a flight for tonight."

"You really travelled all the way just to hand over his jacket?" Pansy asked, her tone heavy with disbelief. "Well, as soon as you get home I want you to come over - Pandora is missing her Uncle Harry," she laughed. Harry smiled at her attempt to lighten the mood. Pandora had never called him Uncle Harry, and he knew she probably never would, but he appreciated her kindness.

"I'll try and find her a nice gift then, to make up for it," he allowed, playing along. "Kids like asbestos and lead paint, right?" he quipped as the cab drew up in front of the hotel. "Look, I have to go - I'll call you when I get back."

"Ok sweetie, take care." Pansy urged before they disconnected.

Draco walked towards the staff room, his feet feeling heavier with each and every step. He had endured 3 hours of surgery with Flint, which would have been simple had it not been for the other man's incessant chatting. He felt ever so slightly dirty after hearing about the other man's escapades, and thanked every deity that he had managed to escape it for a while.

He pushed the door open and cursed as he came face to face with Tonks. "Hi, Draco! Wow, you look real tired." she informed, kicking a chair away from the communal table in the middle of the room for Draco to sit at, "Here," she smiled.

"Oh, I'm just passing through," he lied, considering whether to just go chill out at the nurses station instead. He crossed the room to his locker with the pretence of grabbing his mobile phone, and pretended to listen as Tonks began chatting about a new patient. He opened the door, shielding him from Tonk's view, and fished his phone out of his bag. He pretended to press a few buttons, even though it was switched off, and heaved a theatrical sigh. "No calls for me, so unpopular." he laughed for her benefit.

"Well, if I had your number, I'd call you…" She hinted, her tone appearing innocent. Draco rolled his eyes, slipping the phone into his pocket along with his wallet.

His reply was ready on his tongue when he paused. His eyes fell on a white jacket hanging inside his locker and he frowned knowing that it hadn't been there earlier. He pulled it out, turning it over in his hands when the sleeve slipped back revealing navy blue stitching.

"Oh," Tonks said around a mouthful of bagel, "you found it."

Draco continued to stare at it, incredulously. It was impossible! There was no way that it could be there - where the hell had it come from?

"Draco, are you alright?" Tonks asked, moving to stand beside him. She invaded his personal space as usual, though for the moment Draco didn't have enough wits about him to notice or care. He was marvelling and freaking out at the same moment and he couldn't seem to regroup himself.

"Where did this come from?" He mumbled, his voice quivering. He noticed that his hands were shaking, the jacket trembling as a result. He turned to the redhead, sure his face was green, "Tonks, where the hell did this come from?" he choked.

Tonks gazed at him uncertainly, her eyes searching his expression for an explanation, "A guy brought it here earlier - I did tell you." she informed sounding as though she were afraid she would get reprimanded.

Draco couldn't care less how she was feeling at that very point in time. His voice whipped out like a red hot lasso, "Who was it? What was his name?" he demanded, an impossible image of Harry springing to his mind. He shuddered away from it, scolding himself for even allowing himself to think his name. Of course it wasn't Harry.

Tonks seemed even less inclined to part with information than she was before. Her face had gone an odd pallid colour, "He didn't tell me his name," she said apologetically, "He just said that you guys used to be friends and ‘Oreos send love’...?!" she added.

Draco blanched. The coat slipped from his shaking hands and fell fluttering to the ground. "Aurors?" he asked frantically, "Do you mean Aurors?" he repeated, grabbing Tonks by her arms and pulling her round to face him, "Tonks, this is important - what did he look like?" he asked trying to control his voice. His hands were a lost cause they trembled so badly.

She gasped with surprise as he manhandled her, but she didn't look afraid, "Er, I don't know…kinda tall, messy hair, dorky glasses." she described, shrugging her shoulders.

Draco's eyes widened, so much so that he looked slightly mad. His grip on Tonks' arms tightened before he released her. He bent down and retrieved the jacket, searching the pockets to see if there was a note, anything, explaining the crazy situation. When he found nothing but the slight scent of a forgotten memory, he turned back to Tonks, "Did he leave a number?"

Tonks shook her head, obviously regretting her answer before she even gave it, "No, he said he was in a hurry," she informed, glancing from the jacket to Draco, "Who was he?"

Draco had stopped listening. He turned and bolted for the door, racing down the hall beyond towards the exit. He had no idea where he was going, knowing deep down that if it had been Harry he'd be long gone by now, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping that he'd still be around.

"Hey, Draco!" Tonks called after him, running out into the street where he stood at the entrance.

He looked up and down, searching out Harry's distinct figure and came up empty. He fumbled in his pockets for his phone, hastily switching it on and dialling Pansy's number in the same instant. It rang a few times before she answered with her usual 'Hi sweetie!'

"Where is he? Where is he staying?" He demanded, not even bothering to greet her, "Pansy, where is staying!"

"He's at The Long Beach Hotel in Frankston." She answered, not even bothering to deny her knowledge of the situation, "But Draco…only go there if you're sure - it took a lot for him to walk away today."

He hung up, not wanting to hear her explanations at that point- his hand was already out hailing a cab. Tonks was watching him with obvious confusion as a cab drew up in front of them, "Draco, where are you going?" she asked, frowning.

He shouted the address at the cab driver, before throwing open the door, "Tonks, I need you to cover for me - tell them I had a family emergency or something?" he asked, turning to her with an imploring expression.

Tonks nodded, "Of course I will. But Draco - what's going on - who was that guy?"

Draco climbed into the cab pulling the door closed behind him. He glanced at her face, swallowing a lump that had set up camp inside his throat. "The One." he choked simply, before telling the driver to step on it.

* * *

Harry spent the next hour on the phone to the airlines trying to rearrange his flight. So far he been put on hold a dozen different times and he was slowly losing the will to live. In the back of his mind he was actually relieved that he had a chance to think of something other than Draco, but he knew - as it had happened constantly over the previous 3 years - thoughts of the blonde man would emerge soon enough.

At first, the weeks and months after Draco had disappeared had been unbearable. Being in the office had been pure torture and it wasn't long until he had ordered a switch around. He just couldn't deal with having to walk past Draco's desk and not seeing him there. His office had been relocated to the other end of the building, and though it felt slightly easier to deal with, made little difference in the long run. Paperwork with Draco's handwriting appeared in front of him for weeks after he had left. Clients asked after his well-being, as did the staff, but they soon learned not to mention the blonde's name near Harry.

And his relationship with Hermione had never fully recovered. He blamed her for driving Draco away. And so did she.

He had gotten to the point where everything seemed so pointless. His life, his priorities, his friendships, his business. The day Pansy had handed him the letter that had brought him to Australia had been the day that he had signed Aurors over to Hermione.

Pansy knew, as well as he had, that he needed a fresh start. She gave him the letter and told him to follow his heart…he had booked a flight before he'd left her house.

After finally rearranging his flight, Harry began gathering his things together, a small part of him thankful that he hadn't had time to unpack, when a sharp knock rapped at his door. He zipped his case closed and made his way towards it when it wrapped again. Frowning, he opened it to find a small, irritated looking woman standing on the other side. "Housekeeping!" she declared in a thick accent.

"Oh, right, of course," Harry sighed, opening the door wider, "I was just going to check out," he explained as he went to grab his cases. He slung a hold-all over his chest and dragged his suitcase behind him, sweeping the room to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. "I'll leave you to it." he smiled at the maid, before heading to the lobby.

It wasn't long before he was heading back to the airport, and he was sure that if he lived to be a hundred years old, he'd never live another day as long as this one. He tried not to think about what he was going to do when he got back to Britain because every time he did he felt vomit travel up his throat. He contemplated just booking a flight to the first country he looked at on a map - after all, nothing was holding him back anymore. He had nothing to stick around for.

* * *

The cab had hardly stopped before Draco launched himself out of it, running full pelt into the lobby of The Long Beach Hotel, narrowly avoiding smashing into an elderly couple who were exiting it. He threw himself at the receptionist desk, aware that he looked beyond crazy and completely uncaring of the fact, "Harry Potter!" he wheezed, clutching a stitch in his side, "Which room is he in?"

The receptionist eyed him wearily, one drawn-on eyebrow raised mockingly, "I'm sorry, sir, I can't disclose that information." she informed.

"Look, I know he's staying here, and I really need to see him - right now!" Draco demanded, slamming his hand against the counter. The woman behind it jumped, some of her hair becoming dislodged from its ugly clips.

"Well, I'm not at liberty to disclose-"

Draco was struck with the most craziest idea he was sure it wouldn't work, but however unethical it was, he was willing to give anything a try by that point, "Look, I'm a surgeon from Peninsula and I really need to speak with Mr Potter - it's life or death, Lady!" he lied, his face so serious she'd never be able to tell the difference.

The receptionist glanced down at his hospital ID and his name tag and deemed him to be telling the truth, "You're too late - he checked out an hour ago, he was headed to the airport-" she said, her expression unconcerned.

"He's gone? No! No, please, no!" Draco begged, his hands flying into his hair and yanking at the roots. This couldn't be happening again; he couldn't lose Harry again!

He ran back out into the street and found that his cab hadn't moved from where he'd left it, so without thinking, he threw himself back into the backseat and yelled at the driver to take him to the airport. He knew it was ridiculous, knew that he would be wasting his time, but he had to try. Knowing Harry had been so close and had walked away felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. His eyes were now finally open - well and truly - and he could see the huge mistakes he had been making. And he could see how important Harry was to him.

The cabbie, to his credit, floored it to the airport - though Draco reasoned it was probably due to the fact he had offered a vast amount of money if he got him there as soon as possible. The journey passed by in a blur with Draco unable to make sense of anything. He couldn't understand why Harry had come looking for him now - after 3 years! He had spent every second he'd been away wondering what Harry was doing and whether he thought of him - in the early days he'd hope he'd come and find him, but after 2 years he'd given up.

He wanted to call Pansy, to find out what she knew, but he knew that if he spoke to her now he'd lose his temper. After all, he had spoken to her earlier that day - she would have known Harry was in the country - and she had said nothing. What if Harry boarded a plane? Would he be able to forgive Pansy for not sharing her knowledge that Harry had only been minutes away from him if Harry was to disappear forever?

* * *

Harry hunched over the table in the airport coffee shop, the letter that had brought him to Australia laid out flat on the surface. His eyes swept frequently across Draco's parting words, his throat constricting at the knowledge that he'd never be on the receiving end of such sentiments.

_I miss you every day, can't wait to see you again. Yours always, Draco xxx_

The sandwich he had been eating lay discarded on the other side of the table, and as much as he needed to eat, he simply couldn't stomach it, knowing that he would vomit as soon as anything touched his tongue. He let his head fall against his forearms, an exhausted sigh rattling through his dry lips. He was so tired - tired of hoping, tired of wishing, tired of praying - he just wanted it all to be over, to be rid of the pain. He didn't want to die or anything dramatic like that. No, he just wanted to be happy - was that really so much to ask for?

His mobile phone buzzed against his right leg for the umpteenth time and he growled into the crook of his arm. Pulling himself erect with a sigh, he pulled his phone out and read Pansy's name. He really couldn't be doing with getting into a conversation with Pansy. As much as he was fond of her - and as well as she meant to be - she could sometimes be…forceful in her opinions. He was certain that, in his current state, he wouldn't fair well if she demanded he turn back and speak to Draco.

He couldn't sit still any longer, couldn't continue to wallow in self-pity. He gathered the letter carefully in his hands, folding it gently before storing it in his pocket. He wandered towards the departure lounge, his luggage already checked in, and watched all the happy smiling faces milling around. He smiled sadly as people ran towards their loved ones, as couples were reunited, as children laughed and shrieked as they were given gifts. It was a beautiful sight.

Well, it _was_ a beautiful sight until, out of nowhere, he was barged so hard from behind he went sprawling across the waxed flooring, crashing into a luggage trolley in the process. He felt liquid spread across his hip and cringed as he thought of his smash insulin pump. His day seriously couldn't have gotten any worse, he was sure of it.

A group of people converged on him, asking if he was ok and helping him to his feet. He winced as he straitened up, his knee and hip bone throbbing in protest, and he scowled with humiliation. Whoever had knocked him down had managed to find his feet and was protesting in a low voice – apparently, they were being coerced into seeking medical attention.

Once he had thanked those who had come to his aid, Harry attempted to limp away, wanting nothing more than to get away anyone who had just witnessed his latest embarrassment.

"Wait, look I'm sorry for crashing into you-"

Harry spun around so quickly he almost made another rotation - his hair whipped around his face, his glasses very nearly falling off the end of his nose, and he was sure his expression was one of absolute dumb-struck disbelief. Because there was no way on earth that he could be face to face with Draco Malfoy. His life didn't work like that.

Draco stared at Harry with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. He couldn't believe his eyes, "Harry?" he breathed, an almost hysterical laugh bursting from his lips. He was aware that his hair was probably sticking up in a number of different directions, and he was wearing scrubs that may or may not have blood on them, but he really didn't care.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked slowly, his eyes sweeping Draco's face, taking in every beautiful detail. "Did Pansy…?"

"I found the lab coat," Draco replied, struggling to catch his breath. His hand reached up and travelled through his hair, flattening the tangled locks, "Tonks said a tall guy with dorky glasses delivered it," he smiled, his eyes glazing over.

Harry laughed, feeling beyond light-hearted. His heart danced inside his chest as he listened to the sound of Draco's laughter. He had been so sure he'd never hear it again.

"You're really here?" Draco whispered, gazing into Harry's eyes.

"Yeah." Harry croaked, nodding his head, "For now, at least - My flight leaves at 10pm" he added, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

Draco tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow against the lump in his throat as Harry admitted that he'd soon be leaving.

Harry tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace, his eyes, once again, sweeping over Draco's face, "Are you happy, Draco?" he asked, dropping any pretences. "I mean really and truly happy?"

Draco thought of the years he'd spent in Australia, rebuilding his life and his self-worth and smiled, "Yes." he replied simply. As Happy as I _could_ be _._

Harry couldn't help but smile sadly in response, even though his heart fell apart inside his chest, "That's all I ever wanted." he replied earnestly, hoping his tone was as sincere as it sounded in his head, "I'm so proud of you, Dr Draco." he added, with a chuckle, "I always knew you were brilliant"

Draco's lips formed a hard line, and he found himself unable to reply. He simply nodded instead.

Heaving a shaky breath, Harry glanced towards the departure lounge. He was sure that if he didn't leave soon, he'd begin to cry, and he had promised himself that he wouldn't do any of that on this trip. He had shed enough tears in front of Draco to last a life-time. "Anyway, I should go." he whispered, "I'm letting go." he added with an urging nod. He wanted Draco to believe him, that he was finally letting go.

He took a step towards the blonde, slightly disappointed when he wasn't overcome by the scent of Draco's aftershave, but then he reasoned it was probably a good thing. He took a deep breath before holding out his hand. Draco looked at it for a fraction of a second before clasping it in his own. Harry was momentarily thrown back to the first time they met, when they shook hands for the very first time, it physically hurt to know that this would be the last,

"Goodbye, Draco. I'll _never_ forget you." Harry whispered around the burning in his throat. His eyes filled with salty tears and he knew he had to leave.

He slipped his hand out of Draco's smooth grip and nodded before walking passed him towards the departure lounge. He bit his bottom lip as tears filled his eyes in earnest, and he promised himself that once he found an empty restroom, he could breakdown. Just not yet.

He had walked a mere 10 steps before Draco's voice called out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

"I love you," he admitted, his voice trembling. Harry stopped and turned, his eyes so wide the tears made their escape, falling triumphantly over his cheeks. "I know it's too late," Draco continued, "and I wish I had said it to you years ago, Harry…but I do, I love you - I always have."

Harry closed his eyes, desperately trying to convince himself that he was dreaming, and that soon he would wake up, because if he believed this were real it would hurt so much more when it turned out to be fantasy. But when he re-opened his eyes, Draco was still there, watching him anxiously.

He couldn't help it, he crossed the space between them in 3 sprinted strides and caught Draco's face between his hands. His lips crashed against the blonde's with desperation, his frantic need to be close to the other man rendering the kiss completely clumsy. He pulled away several times, placing light butterfly kisses against the other man's lips, sighing and sobbing in equal measures.

Draco's hands reached up to cup Harry's face, pulling him closer, but knowing deep down that he'd never be close enough. 3 years worth of regret and lust and love exploded within him and he gripped Harry's face tighter - afraid that if he let go, if he loosened his grip even a fraction, Harry would disappear in a puff of smoke. He whimpered against Harry's mouth, aware that tears cascaded over his pale lashes but completely uncaring.

"I love you, too" Harry whispered against Draco's lips, desperately trying not to think about the last time he'd uttered those words to the blonde - how his heart had melted to nothing as Draco had walked away and disappeared from his life. He didn't want to ruin this moment - he didn't know how long it was going to last.

He pulled back slightly, though not enough to break contact. Draco's eyes widened, fear flickering in their steely depths, "Don't leave," he murmured, "please."

Harry's heart danced inside his chest as Draco's words sunk in. He reached up and ran his hand through Draco's hair, marvelling at the feel of it - marvelling at the fact that he was able to do it, "I'm not going anywhere" He breathed, leaning forward so his forehead rested against the blonde's, "I'm never walking away from you again."

"What about Aurors?" Draco choked, his eyes falling closed as he processed what Harry was saying. Could he dare to believe it - could he still have Harry after all this time, after everything he'd done?

Harry breathed a low chuckle, sniffing as he did so, "Aurors is Hermione's now. I'm unemployed for the first time in my life" He laughed. It was strange that he wasn't afraid of that statement - after needing stability for his entire life, it was refreshing that he was letting go, letting life take him where it wanted.

Draco gazed at Harry, a smile pulling at his lips, his eyes twinkling with hope, "Australian's need solicitors too," he grinned, smoothing a tear away from Harry's cheek with his thumb, "I need you." He admitted, cupping his face.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, "I should stay, then?" he whispered, his breath washing over Draco's face.

The blonde closed his eyes, "Yeah" he whispered, smiling as yet more tears fell from his eyes. He leaned forward and caught Harry lips in a soft lingering kiss full of promise, "Australia and I? We could really use somebody like you."

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm rather proud of this piece of work, so I really hope you all enjoyed it.   
> Please leave comments and Kudos, it really boosts my confidence and inspires me to continue writing.  
> Lots of love, Victoria x


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